A Taste of Heaven in Hell
by Kuro The Dark Ringmaster
Summary: Sebastian, heads to London in search of a job as a Pastry Chef. He decides to apply to Ciel. Only to meet an impatient 20 year old owner, a snide Head Chef and a bubbly blond bartender who flirts with anything. Terrible things are bound to happen as the heat is turned up and fires are started. AU, BL, SMUT, Yaoi, Dark Themes. Sebciel, Alois/Claude, Sebastian/Claude, Alois/Ciel
1. Chapter 1

_Hello everyone, this will be another little series which you may enjoy. I'm a huge foodie, if you can't tell. If you want the recipes feel free to PM me. It may take a bit to respond though… there are going to be a number of them here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, read and review. If you don't I won't continue. _

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**Desert 1: Strawberry Mille Feuille and "Little Masters" Part I**

Sebastian looked at the beautiful doors of one of the greatest restaurants in the world. Complete with a fully stocked cellar of some of the finest wines in the world, Bartenders who were the best of their classes and competitions, waiters known for elegance and grace, a kitchen which made a chef drool and topped with 4 Michelin Stars. He slipped a stray black hair behind his ear as he slowly opened the door of _Ciel_. The foyer was exceptionally clean, with traditional French elements and a modern feel. The walls were painted a warm cream, which was offset by a number of impressionist pieces. A large mahogany desk was in the front, with a single young man standing behind it, he had a pair of purple eyes, dark skin and his hair had a purple sheen which he had neatly tied behind his head. His eyes glanced up from the book, and he asked, "May I help you?" Sebastian nodded; he was wearing his black chef's coat, a pair of black sauté pants and carrying his knife bag. He had a thermometer sticking out of the arm pocket of the jacket as well as a pen. "Yes, I'm here for the interview for the position of head pastry chef," he responded.

The young man smiled sweetly as he glanced down at the book, "Your name?" he asked curiously as he gazed at the page, his Hindi accent was thick and it became apparent what his lineage was. He had a golden pen tucked between his fingers as he waited to hear it. "Michaelis, Sebastian Michaelis," he replied. His eyes glided to the flower arrangements, massive white and red roses had been selected. "Welcome Mr. Michaelis, he is expecting you in the dining hall," the young man commented. Sebastian nodded and glanced back at the desk to see that the young man wasn't just a waiter, "I'm Soma, by the way, I work as the general manager," he commented as he walked beside Sebastian. So that was his role, he looked rather young to be a general manager. Looks were often deceiving. He was after all very young for his trade with the amount of success he had accrued. The dinning hall was painted a warm burgundy red; it was inviting and rather traditional. There was something about the way this restaurant was set up which made him feel at home. The tables were decorated with candles and covered with fresh linens. He could smell the spices from where he stood, a bartender was working at the bar taking inventory and polishing glasses. It was a Sunday morning and yet there they were working. A massive crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room, it sparkled and he noted it was pristine. Even the floor was elegant, a beautiful parquet floor was there, and he felt as though he were back in Paris.

Sitting alone was a gentleman in a navy blue suite, his legs were crossed, and a tea-cup was in his hands. His slate blue hair was rather short and seemed more like a mop than a hairstyle. "Sir, Mr. Michaelis," said Soma smoothly as he stood before the owner. Sebastian waited for his cue to appear, he wasn't about to stand before the man who could potentially throw him out. "Good, make something I would want to eat," he stated as he waved his hand toward the kitchen. The gesture it's self was nowhere near as refined as the rest of the restaurant, in fact he had never been treated this way in his life. Sebastian lifted an eyebrow in confusion after hearing this, usually they asked for resumes first, class ratings, training, number of years in the field, awards, and who he trained under. Yet all he wanted was something to eat, "Anything?" asked Sebastian in confusion. He heard a sigh of exasperation leave the owner, "Yes, anything," he responded harshly.

This concept frightened Sebastian more than imaginable; he had no idea what this individual was partial to. Hundreds of questions buzzed in his head pertaining to the sweetness of dishes, the presentation, elements, even the very nature of the desert was up in the air. Nothing in his training at _Le Cordon Bleu_ prepared him for this. He nodded as he followed Soma to the kitchen, never once looking at the one who was to be tasting the desert. He opened the doors to a white and spotless stainless steel kitchen, oddly it was empty. "You have access to everything in the pantry as well as the refrigerators," said Soma before he disappeared. Before the tall raven haired chef could respond Soma had vanished, "They can never make these things easy, can they?" he asked as he placed his hands on his hips.

Since the young man was indisputably English there was only one thing an Englishman would drink this time of day, Earl Gray Tea, and powerful. He closed his eyes as he thought of the possible desserts which could be paired with it. He smiled after a moment and realize it would be better if he went with a traditional classic which was simple, but took skill to execute. "Well young master, let's see if I can make you crave more," he commented as he walked toward the pantry and pulled out a silver canister of flour. It was rather humid which meant the flour would be rather moist. He couldn't allow it to be flat that meant compensating was in order. In seconds the canister of salt was in his hands, another silver canister, clearly the head chef respected his ingredients. A smile curved the raven haired chef as he placed the canisters down and went in search of the scale. Scales were a pastry chef's best friend, by the mass of the flour he could determine the ratio of all the other ingredients. Once he found the silver digital scale he dashed toward the fridge and reach for the butter, "Firm and unsalted," he muttered as he located the sticks.

He paused momentarily to ogle at the sight of the walk in, clearly the head chef was spoiled by the owner, and all the ingredients were fresh and looked as though they had just been plucked from the farm. "Wow," he whispered before shaking his head and berating himself, "Admire it later, pastry first," he groaned. He looked around curiously, everything was metal, which wasn't ideal for a pastry. "Is there not a wood cutting board anywhere?" he asked in confusion. He honestly should have asked for a tour of the kitchen, he would need an un-textured glass surface later, another impossible thing. Sebastian honestly began to wonder if there was ever a pastry chef on staff at this restaurant. "Where on earth is the cutting board?" he asked in frustration. He heard a cough behind him, which nearly made him jump out of his skin. Sebastian spun around to find a massive man standing behind him, his black hair had a sheen of violet to it and a pair of cold golden eyes. He was wearing a black chef's coat as well and a tall chef's hat, "Behind you," he responded. Sebastian stared in shock; this man was the head chef. His eyes glided over his neat appearance and noted golden script on his chest, _C. Faustus_. "Thank you," Sebastian replied as he grabbed the board and opened his black knife bag. Nestled inside were assorted silver blades, pastry brushes, thermometers and other tools which most kitchens didn't have that pastry chefs required. His nimble fingers freed the pastry scraper.

"Liquid measuring cup," he mused as he looked on the shelves for one. The massive chef was still standing there and asked, "Are you planning on acting like a second-rate chef the entire time, or shall I gather the tools you need?" There was an edge to Claude's voice which rubbed Sebastian the wrong way, he may have looked handsome but his demeanor was horrendous. "I'm not a second-rate, and it would be helpful since no one showed me where anything was in this kitchen," he replied. Claude chuckled before sauntering off, "Oh so you do have teeth, I was beginning to wonder if you have them pulled," he commented. Sebastian's red eyes narrowed as he watched the man walk away to grab the liquid measuring cup. "Bastard," he muttered under his breath as he walked over to the scale and weight 12 ounces and then 6 of butter, he would compensate by cutting back on the water by an ounce.

His eyes were locked on the display of the scale as he measured the flour to the nearest decimal and then the butter. Resting on the cutting board was an empty glass measuring cup. "Thanks," Sebastian responded, he had brought his own rolling-pin. He sprinkled some flour on the board before unwrapping the wax paper which the butter had been snuggly wrapped in. There was a scrape in the background and Sebastian glanced up to see the head chef perched on a stool across from him. His head rested on the heel of one of his hands and his glasses slipped down his nose a little. Of course this man was going to watch him like a hawk, Sebastian was both new and he was probably the only one who could rate his skill. "Making a puff pastry with so little time is daring," commented Claude, "On top of the fact that this kitchen is humid." The pastry scraper made quick work of cutting the butter into chunks on the board, a cloud of flour appeared as Sebastian added more of it. "I'm aware, that's why I'm compensating," he stated, he was never a fan of people hovering as he worked.

The kitchen was silent as he continued to mix the flour, salt, and butter on the cutting board. Sebastian could feel Faustus' harsh gaze as he continued to make the dough. Once they were thoroughly mixed he grabbed the measuring cup and poured five ounces of water into it, he planned on not using all of it, but was aware that anymore than five ounces would be far too much. He checked the temperature of the water with his fingers to ensure it was cold enough, he didn't want to shock the pastry, that would make a mess. Sebastian gently tipped the glass measurer to slowly add water to the dry mix on the board, if he was just a bit off the pastry would fall apart and be useless. The goal was a flaky but moist pastry, something which would melt in the mouth after a bite. "Aren't you concerned the least about the time?" asked Faustus the question drew Sebastian out of his mental notes. He was known as one of the best and fastest at the Cordon Bleu for his ability to make a rough pastry. "Nope, nervous?" asked Sebastian teasingly as he finished adding water and began folding.

He floured the roller before beginning to flatten the dough, Sebastian knew how to work the dough, fold after fold he allowed the dough to act naturally. He was careful to apply even pressure to the pastry as he worked, ensuring that it was smooth and clean. Sebastian snatched the brush from his bag and swiftly dusted off the excess flour between folds. The once chunky and hardly dough looking substance turned into a beautifully folded white sheet. The head chef was silent as he watched the pastry chef work. "Cellophane?" asked Sebastian curiously as he put the last two folds in the pastry. Faustus vanished from the stool as he retrieved the box and placed it beside the raven haired chef. "No, you're the one looking for a job, as far as I'm concerned you're a second-rate who's fresh out of school and has no real experience," Faustus responded coldly. Every word was dripping in venom, Sebastian could tell this chef wasn't a fan of pastries or the ones who created them. He had heard a rumor that the previous chef had left the position, due to harassment from the head chef. Perhaps that rumor which he had dismissed had an ounce of truth to it.

Sebastian wrapped the dough and stowed it in the fridge to set for half an hour before pulling it out to work. "Now the filling," he commented as he looked at the bright red and succulent strawberries. They were screaming to be used in a pastry. A smirk of delight swept across his lips, "I know just what to make," he commented as he plucked the basked from the shelf of the walk in. "Cream," he mused as his fingers walked the shelves in search of the carton. He hummed after finding it and returned to where he had worked. The golden eyed chef was still perched on the stool, Sebastian washed the strawberries and noticed a confused look on the chef's face. He was making a spring combination, rather than summer. The bright red berries glistened once washed and he shook the water from their skin. Sebastian's fingers moved swiftly as he attempted to make up for lost time which was due to making the dough from scratch. His fingers caressed the soft edges of the berries as he hulled every one of them.

Crimson red eyes were locked on the fruit as the small knife slipped into each one and removed the core. Claude slipped into the background as he continued making his food. The smell of fresh strawberries reminded him of summer, it seemed to warm the sterile kitchen and made it feel like there was more to this glacier than just cold steel. Once cored, the strawberries were placed in a glass bowl which oddly the head chef had given him. Sebastian nodded as he whisked the berries off the table and placed them in the bowl, "Thanks," he commented. The head chef simply huffed and crossed his arms, "Yeah," he remarked. "Icing sugar and casting sugar," he commented, "Just a touch of vanilla to tie it together."

"Making the whipped cream from scratch as well?" asked Faustus once Sebastian had returned with the ingredients, two bowls, whisk, spoon and another carton of double cream. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked. Oddly the silver scale was resting beside him, calibrated and clean. Everything in the way this chef acted made Sebastian believe that he didn't want him to succeed, yet he still assisted him. He had a feeling this man was a Gemini. His mood swings were giving Sebastian whip-lash. "The work and time," responded Faustus sharply. Sebastian heaved a sigh as he weight the caster sugar and selecting the softer strawberries to make the purée. "I'm making a purée as well, as for time I have it, the pastry will be easy once the rest of the pieces are made," he commented. The golden eyed chef raised an eyebrow in confusion as he watched Sebastian hands.

In a flash the young chef had made a purée and was going to begin making the whipped cream. Sebastian gradually added the heavy double cream to the bowl as well as both sugar and a touch of vanilla. A medley of strawberries, vanilla and cream tangled in the air, he was certain that the chef watching was drooling for his treats. Sebastian cradled the bowl in his arms as he whipped air into the cream, it was light and fluffy white as snow and smelt sweet. Resting off to the side was a piping bag and star nozzle. "Time to work the dough," he commented as he sprinted back to the fridge and pulled out the sheet. It had stiffened up perfectly and looked like a smooth cream-colored sheet as he unwrapped the cellophane. "Now the question is will it rise properly," drawled Faustus. Sebastian hugged and smiled, it was going to rise, "Pre-heat the oven for me," he said smoothly as his fingers spread a long sheet of brown parchment.

"Now then, thin and rectangular," he commented as he rolled it out again with the pin so it was an even thickness. With the pastry scraper he cut each piece to proper size and placed them on a silver tray which Faustus had taken the liberty of lining with parchment. "8 minutes in the oven and then I can plate," he stated. He slipped the pastry sheet into the oven and watched them turn a golden brown. They were perfect, flaky, yet not dry, just what he needed. "Where did you go to college?" asked Faustus after a moment, his English accent was thick and he sounded partially bored. Sebastian hummed and crossed his arms before leaning on the counter. He had a few minutes before he officially pulled the tray, "_Le Cordon Bleu_ in Paris, I attended their pastry school," he responded nonchalantly. A number of chefs when to _Le Cordon Bleu_ to learn pastries, however, it didn't mean they were any good. What mattered was the taste, and skill.

The owner sat in silence, "He's been in there for over thirty minutes," moaned the young man. The bartender had returned with another pot of tea. It was steaming hot, and the slate haired 20 year old sighed. "Alois, join me," he said as he pointed to the seat beside him. The blond looked at him with large sky blue eyes and grinned before chirping, "You look like you are waiting to meet a blind date, he's certainly cute enough." He sighed and dipped his head; this was going to be the 13th pastry chef who interviewed for the position. Sadly, he couldn't go without a pastry chef, desert was one of the things which he was known for and had already devoted a great deal of money to the state of the art facilities, wines and coffees to compliment the sweets, as well as the fact that he had a major sweet tooth. "This better be the best damn pastry of the century or I'm going to toss him out on his head for making me wait," he grumbled before taking a sip of tea. The bubbly bartender sighed and looked at him, "It's ashamed he will reside in the kitchen he's so hot he would attract every man and women into your restaurant," he commented as he looked at the owner. The slate haired twenty year old groaned, and rubbed his temples. He didn't want to be known for attractive staff he wanted to be known for the food.

The doors of the kitchen opened, and the young man smiled as he watched the chef saunter over with a white plate. "I apologize for the wait," said the chef smoothly as he placed the plate on the table. His sapphire blue eye widened as he looked at the plate, it was so simple, a _Mille Feuille_, he had been served soufflé after soufflé, tarts, truffles, cakes, but no one served this simple classic. "A Strawberry _Mille Feuille_?" he asked in confusion as he looked at the sugary treat. His eyes narrowed, this had to be a joke, there wasn't much required to make _a Mille Feuille_, and he knew that. There was frozen dough in the back waiting to be thawed and cut. He looked up to see a slender and rather beautiful looking chef, his eyes widened as he looked at his raven black hair and high cheek bones. His features were beautiful, in fact he looked like he belonged on the cover of magazines and not the kitchen. His burgundy red eyes were welcoming, "Yes, I though it would be a welcome change," responded the chef, his voice was smooth like velvet. It caressed the young man's ears and made his heart pound. There was no way a beauty like him was a chef. His black chef's coat didn't have a speck of flour on it which made him wonder if the man had even bother to make the pastry from scratch. "I see, you are aware that you are applying for a job at a four Michelin star restaurant correct?" asked the young man curtly. Alois stared in confusion, "Ciel, you haven't even tasted it," whispered Alois in confusion.

Ciel sighed as he looked at the plate and pushed it away from him, "I don't have to, and I'm looking for a pro, not a second-rate. I could buy this in a supermarket if I wanted to," spat Ciel. He watched the chef stiffen, he wasn't sure if it was from irritation or fear, he was nearly impossible to read. "Get him out of here, clearly he just wants to waste my time," barked Ciel as he waved the man away. Sebastian gaped at him, "You haven't even tasted it," he stated with anger. Ciel hugged as he crossed his arms and glared at the young man, "I don't have to, it's not what I wanted," he responded snidely. He didn't want to be made a fool of by a man who seemed to look down on him. Sebastian's red eyes narrowed, it was clear Ciel had struck a chord in the chef. "Then perhaps you should have actually ordered me to make something," he responded harshly. Ciel laughed coolly and pointed at the door, "I told you to make something I would want to eat, I don't want this," he stated, "Get out."

Sebastian sighed and shook his head, "I get it, but you should taste it. Who knows you may actually like something that isn't smother in chocolate, or are you still a brat?" asked Sebastian with a dark grin. Faustus was staring at Sebastian, his face was composed but his golden eyes were wide with shock, what little of it he could show on his stone face. Ciel was trembling with anger; no one ever spoke to him like that. Without another word Sebastian walked back into the kitchen, "Have a good day, young master," he called before slipping into the sanctuary of the kitchen. Ciel sat there dumb founded, "Whoa, Ciel no one has ever said something like that to you," said Alois in shock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Desert 1: ****_Mille Feuille_**** and "Little Masters": Part II**

The slate haired owner hissed and was about to chuck the plate at Faustus when he finally picked up a silver desert fork. "Get out of here you creepy spider," barked Ciel. He had never been so embarrassed in his life, not even Faustus dared to say things like that to him. He was Vincent Phantomhive's son, the owner of Funtom toys and Phantom Enterprises and Holdings. His mother was the belle of the ball, a socialite who could get just about anything done, the pair together were unstoppable. He was a noble among the rich and powerful, never in his life had he been called a brat. "Hey Ciel, let it go, we can always find someone else," Alois commented. Ciel leaned back in his chair and grumbled, "Yes of course, 14th time's the charm," he hissed before tossing the silver fork on the table. It landed with a clatter as it barely missed the beautifully plated tower called a _Mille Feuille_.

Presentation wise it was gorgeous; the flaky thin pastry was a beautiful golden brown, lightly dusted with sugar. Each layer was put together with an alternating pattern between small strawberries and tufts of cream. The strawberry purée was streaked on the plate to give it a little color and a single succulent strawberry rested on the top of the tower. Alois picked up the fork and asked, "If you're not going to eat it, can I try it?" Ciel waved his hand and nodded, "Knock your self out."

Faustus bowed before turning on his heel and returning to the kitchen. He didn't think the young chef would have that kind of mouth on him. Then again Sebastian had responded curtly to him in the kitchen when they spoke. Standing at the station which was now clean, oddly Sebastian had the courtesy to clean it which surprised him a little, he watched the young man pack up his clean utensils. He adjusted his silver rimmed glasses and looked at the second tower of a _Mille Feuille_ which rested on the table. "I made too much, throw it out if you want," Sebastian muttered as he slipped his pastry edge into the black bag. Faustus was silent as he watched the man pack his things, there was something wrong with this picture. Sebastian didn't look sad, more like he was fed up, irritated and honestly exhausted. Most chefs looked crestfallen after facing the merciless Ciel. "You know they told me in school that when I got into the world critics would be harsh, but one would think that they would taste the dish before cutting you to piece," growled Sebastian as he zipped the bag closed. It was only then Faustus realized Ciel hadn't tasted it, "It's cruel out there," he commented as he watched the raven hairedchef swing his knife bag over his shoulder. Sebastian heaved a sigh and looked at Faustus, his shoulders dropped, and he ran his hand through his black hair. "Well it was nice to give it a try, even if the little master didn't appreciate it," he commented before turning around and disappearing through the back entrance.

Once the pastry chef disappeared from view Claude turned his attention to the second plate of _Mille Feuille_. It was perfectly plated, pleasing to the eye and looked delicious. He began to wonder what Ciel was thinking by refusing to simply taste it. Claude reached into the pocket of his chef's coat and pulled out a gold fork. "It would be a waste to throw away a _Mille Feuille_ this beautiful," he commented. The fork slipped through the pastry cleanly, and he noticed the number of flaky layers in the dough. The sweet smell of vanilla, strawberries and cream filled his nose as he took a bite. His eyes widened as he looked at the dish, "So that is what you are capable of," he whispered before taking another bite. He had gravely underestimated the chef who had been in the kitchen. He rose from his stool and walked toward the door, Alois was going to taste it, that would be a waste. The desert was meant for Ciel, he could tell from the taste.

Claude walked out of the kitchen and stood before the pair, "What the hell are you doing out here Claude, shouldn't you be prepping for this evening?" asked Ciel curtly. Alois paused and looked at the head chef. Claude drew a deep breath, he knew he would pay for this later, but he couldn't stand watching talent wasted, even if it was in the form of the arrogant Sebastian Michaelis. "Ciel, I think you should at least taste it," said Claude after a moment. There was silence in the dinning room, "He wasted my time in there, there was frozen dough in the freezer," Ciel spat. Claude sighed, he could still remember how Sebastian worked the dough by hand and folded it with ease. There was no way that puff pastry could be mistaken as frozen, even when looked at. "Just taste it, you'll see why," Claude urged Ciel. The young man grumbled before picking the fork from Alois' fingers and dipping into the pastry. His eyes widened as he cleanly cut into it, there were flaky layers, and he noticed the cream had some body to it. It was a beautiful golden brown all the way through, most of the time the frozen dough was over cooked or soggy. He lifted the fork to his lips and froze, his sapphire eye fell to the plate, and he looked shocked and confused for a moment. "This is a _Mille Feuille_?" he asked after a moment as he looked at the dish. Claude nodded and watched as the young man chewed and swallowed before taking another bite.

The pastry was perfect it was flaky yet melted in the mouth when chewed. It wasn't doughy, wet or heavy; the pastry was light, fluffy and ever so wonderful. The cream was light and airy, yet maintained some body. It wasn't too sweet, and the vanilla hadn't over powered it. The cored strawberries finished it off with a little zing, "What would this be pared with?" asked Ciel after a moment as he tapped the tip of the fork to his lips. Claude smiled and picked up the tin of Earl Gray Tea, "This or coffee," he remarked. Ciel was silent, it was clear at that moment the young man was wrong; Sebastian did make something he wanted to eat. Alois purred after popping a piece in his mouth, "This is amazing, Ciel why did you tell him to get out?" Claude's golden eyes were locked on Ciel, they were fierce and filled with the same heat as the fires of the kitchen ovens. "You are a fool to push him out," said Claude coldly, "He could bring us back to the forefront."

Ciel paused, he could tell the young man was thinking this over, "It would be nice to be the front runner," Ciel mused. Claude smiled a little, he would never tell Sebastian that he had convinced Ciel to allow him to work there. Yet, he couldn't allow the chef who reminded him of the power of food to simply walk out. Perhaps a little more fire in the kitchen would be good, it had been a while since _Ciel_ had seen this kind of action. "Claude, go call up that bastard of a pastry chef," Ciel groaned, "Tell him he's got the job." Claude nodded and walked up to Soma who already had the file out. The head chef sighed as he dialed the number and muttered, "Michaelis, you better thank me for this."

The wind blew down the river, and Sebastian shivered as he leaned on one of the banisters of the Millennium Bridge. He had never been treated in such a way; he was the best of his class at _Le Cordon Bleu_, known for his meticulous methods and execution. He sighed as he ran one of his hands through his messy ink black hair, "I was a fool to think I would find a job in London, I should have stayed in Paris," he muttered. There, he could have worked in any pastry shop, a small quiet shop on a corner. He had dreamed of such a shop, however with the debts his father had accumulated, that wasn't possible. He would have to settle for working in a restaurant like _Ciel_. It was a shame, Ciel was such a beautiful place, and the owner was just as gorgeous.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by the loud ring of his phone. It made the young chef jump a little, he wasn't expecting a call. In fact, it seemed far too odd to have a phone call in the middle of the day, since a majority of his friends worked at night and was usually asleep this hour of the day. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and looked at the display, he didn't recognize the number. It was probably another debt collector; he pressed the answer button and lifted the chunky black device to his ear. "Hello, this is Sebastian Michaelis," he said almost robotically. He braced himself in case it was another debt collector. "Ah, Mr. Michaelis, this is Chef Faustus from _Ciel_. I'm calling to inform you, that you have the job," the caller said smoothly. Sebastian's red eyes widened with shock, he had been so unprofessional and went as far as to storm out of the back door. He was actually going to work at _Ciel_. "What?" he asked in shock, his hand covered his lips as an infectious smile curved them. "I said you've been hired, oddly enough your _Mille Feuille_ impressed him to the point that he decided you were the only one for the job," stated the head chef. Sebastian's heart swelled a little, he did make the right decision. He smiled brightly as he looked out over the horizon, "I see, thank you for calling me, when do I start?" he asked curiously.

There was a paused and Sebastian could hear Mr. Faustus talking to someone in the background, "How about tomorrow?" he asked after a moment. Sebastian was about to jump and scream yes with glee, however, that would be just about as professional as when he stormed out of the kitchen earlier. "I can do that, what time?" he asked after a moment. Different restaurants opened their doors in the morning at different times for chefs to come in and prepare. "Since I am relatively unfamiliar with pastries I would like you to be there at 9 am, to pick out the supplies you need from our Grower," responded Faustus. Sebastian nodded as he hummed; he forgot that the golden eyed chef couldn't see him. "Sure, thank you so much," said Sebastian happily. Perhaps things would work out. Faustus sighed and responded, "Don't be late," prior to hanging up. Sebastian was happy he had received the job only to realize that he was now going to have to deal with the Head Chef, C. Faustus. Faustus didn't seem like a bad guy, he was just irritating; his constant jabs at Sebastian's decisions drove him up the wall. Yet, he was nowhere near as insulting as the 20-year-old owner Ciel Phantomhive.

Naturally Sebastian had heard the name, everyone who was in cuisine had. The 20-year-old restaurant owner was known for his tight ship and elegant style. He had started the restaurant in a response to a column in the Starr. They had been going after Vincent Phantomhive and his lack of knowledge of wine and French cuisine, _Ciel_ was going down hill. When it had first opened Vincent opened it as a hobby and named it after his son. Oddly they had managed to gain 5 Michelin stars after being open for a year. It was known as a gem in the crown of London and even made the French incessantly jealous. The only issue was after the recession fewer and fewer people could afford to eat out. This caused a decrease in revenue which inadvertently affected the food. Ciel from what Sebastian had read was going to bring the restaurant out of the ashes and turn it into the once again the most highly respected restaurant in London. The snag was he was difficult to deal with. In fact, none of the papers had mentioned his rotten personality, which was something that Sebastian was irritated with. Even if he was a successful business man, he should never treat a chef like that.

Then again, he must have done something right, he was hired for a _Mille Feuille_. He paused when he remembered Ceil hadn't eaten it, he must have tasted it after Sebastian had left. At the table the young man didn't seem too keen on eating it, part of him wondered why the young man had even bothered with it. He didn't seem the least bit interested when the dish was placed before him. "No let's not over think this, be happy you have the job you ponse," he whispered before walking down the Millennium Bridge toward a brighter future. Or at least that's what he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

_I was shocked by the review, and number of views to this story, so I will continue it. I'm debating whether or not make them their actual species. So bear with me on that. _

_Thank you Promocat for you review. I can't wait to really start this fire, and you'll catch a little bit of Claude's dominance in the kitchen. As well as Ciel's tendency to make everyone miserable. _

_I also want to Thank the following for adding this piece to their Alerts: Promocat, 08GeishaGirl, KxZ fan girl and CrimsonRosexx._

_Enjoy,_

_Kuro._

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**Chapter 3: Desert 2: Une Tranche de l' Enfer**

It was early that morning, the sun hadn't even touched the horizon, and the sound of water falling onto the cold floor of a shower could be heard. The flat was very small with a large room which doubled for a living room when the futon was put away, a kitchen and a bathroom. It was cramped, poorly insulated, and the windows leaked when it rained. Yet it was home, well to Sebastian, it was. He had lived in dorms for years as he studied in Paris, his room was actually a little larger than, not by much though. Sebastian slipped his fingers through his black hair to rinse the soap away; his eyes were closed as he tipped his head back and hummed. Today was his first day working under C. Faustus, he still didn't know much about the man but figured it was a good idea to get there early and familiarize himself with the layout of the kitchen so he didn't get lost once again. It was bad enough the day before he had relied on the chef to show him where everything was.

Sebastian's slender hands slipped down his body as he finished washing away the body wash he had used. The water ran over his toned back and hips, he wasn't the most muscular of men but he was stronger than he looked. He hummed as he turned the shower off and slicked his hair back, before slipping out of the shower. The owner wasn't the nicest either; fortunately he would only have to face the head chef, as long as he didn't mess up. Ciel didn't seem to care that he had offended Sebastian, in fact he didn't even seem to notice that he had. He proceeded to wrapping a fluffy white towel which smelled of lavender around his waist and drying the rest of his body with the second one which was beside it on the towel bar. The bathroom mirror was fogged and he groaned before swiping his hand across it and looking at his reflection. "Relax it's just a kitchen, if you can survive Chef Ramsay you can survive Faustus," he muttered to himself before continuing his morning ritual.

Like clockwork he was dressed in a pair of sauté pants, his chef's coat, carrying his bag, with his bike over his shoulder and out the door in under half an hour. By the time he reached the bottom of the steps his bicycle was on the sidewalk, he was fortunate to have his Linus Roadster 8. It was old and had been painted twice; he had to do the brake cables a few times, and had whipped out more than once when learning how to deal with Parisian traffic. He looked at the bright red bicycle and chuckled, he had purchased it from a man claiming it was French made; clearly he had missed the insignia stating it was made in China. His hair was still damp; he had managed to get it dry enough to clip back to keep his bangs from getting in his eyes. Sebastian looked up at the sky and noticed the sun was out, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky, "A sunny day in London, I must be in for a good day," he mused as he.

He slowly rolled the bike down the sidewalk and swung his leg over the seat. The wind was cool, and the street lamps were slowly going out as the sun slipped over the horizon. London wasn't as beautiful as Paris, however it was spectacular in it's own way. He jumped off the sidewalk and into the road to get through the traffic circle. His arm held out in the direction he was turning, and he waited patiently as he got off. Cycling on the wrong side of the road still scared the daylights out of him. Sebastian had nearly been hit by a car on day one, fortunately the car's owner was nice enough to tell him about the position at Ciel after learning he was a pastry chef. Oddly he was a rather old-looking man in what appeared to be the dress of a footman. He had a pair of circular glasses and spoke French, which made the experience a little easier to remember. He was handed Ciel's card and told to try his hand there, perhaps he would be the chef for the job.

Sebastian turned down an ally to cross the block until he found himself gliding to the back entrance of the restaurant. He was an hour early, yet, the kitchen wasn't empty. He spotted a black sports car parked in the parking lot in the back. He stared at the glossy Jaguar and sighed, "In my dreams," he whispered before dismounting the bicycle and carrying it up the back steps. Once he had managed to do so he opened the doors to the wondrous kitchen. It was spotless, not a crumb on the counters, nor stain on the floor. Every pot was hanging on the rack and glistened in the morning light. His eyes glided over to the industrial ovens and the doors to the walk ins. Even the door to the pantry was closed, he hummed as he continued his journey. His fingers trailed against the counters as he walked through the kitchen, "Heaven, this must be it," he whispered as he looked around the warm kitchen.

The door of the walk in opened as Faustus stepped out, several buttons of his coat were unfastened, and his hat was gone. His silver rimmed glasses were resting on the top of his head and he was looking at a clip board, "Onions," he muttered as he swiftly wrote something down. "Good morning," said Sebastian softly which caused the chef's head to snap up and look at him. Those golden eyes seemed to find their target and narrowed before he slipped his glasses over his nose. "Ah, Michaelis I didn't see you there," he stated. Of course Sebastian was hoping they would have a normal relationship, however, that didn't seem to be in the cards. Faustus was already calling him Michaelis, in that cool and clipped tone. "You're early, no matter, I'll show you where you will be working," he stated as he slipped the clipboard under his arm and gestured for the chef to follow. "You will be working away from the rest of us, for two reasons. The first being that pastries require a great deal of precious counter space and oven space, and the second we usually farm out the chef and have him take catering jobs such as wedding cakes," he stated.

Sebastian stared in confusion, "It's just me?" he asked after a moment and gaped at Claude. That was an impossibly tall order to fill, "Yes, if you can't do it I suggest you quit now and spare us all the embarrassment," Faustus stated coldly. Sebastian grit his teeth, he wasn't about to lose face to this man, "No I will do it," he responded. A smirk curved the golden eyed chef's lips as he grew uncomfortably closer to Sebastian. "Good to hear, just remember our reputation is at stake here," he said flatly as he looked directly at Sebastian. The raven haired chef simply nodded and made a mental note to not irritated the head chef. "Claude?" called a curious voice, Sebastian was confused for a moment. Faustus backed away and pivoted on his heel, his long fingers swept through his hair as he did so to put it back in place. "Yes Finnian, I was speaking to our newest member of the crew," he stated as he walked into the main section of the kitchen. Sebastian paused, the man's name was Claude, Claude Faustus. He paused and looked at him, "It can't be," he whispered as he watched the broad-shouldered head chef stand before the small boy. The boy had short blond hair which was clipped in place with red pins, a broad brimmed straw sun hat resting on his back and a pair of stained work gloves on his hands. His eyes were wide and seemed to sparkle as he told Claude about the produce.

Sebastian's mind slipped into overdrive, he knew the name, yet he couldn't seem to place it. It was so familiar, "Meet Pastry Chef, Sebastian Michaelis," said Claude loudly as he gestured to Sebastian. He snapped out of it and slowly approached the short gardener, "Oh how wonderful! A new cook!" the boy exclaimed. Claude sighed in exasperation and shook his head, "No chef, not cook," he corrected the young man. It was quite clear this young man had called everyone in the kitchen a cook. Part of Sebastian could understand Claude's irritation when it came to formalities, it made a massive difference when talking about the pecking order of a kitchen. The back doors opened again and Sebastian stared in shock at a woman dress in tight black leather with long white hair and violet eyes. She had a motorcycle helmet under her arm and a knife bag in her free hand.

"Good morning," she commented with a quick nod before wandering into the locker room. "Good Morning, Hannah," Claude said sternly. Sebastian's eyes wandered over her, he could see her wide hips, large bust and trim waste had been encased in leather. It was apparent she wasn't wearing a stitch under them except panties and a tanktop. She gave him a sideways glance as she walked by, he had the feeling he wasn't welcome here. Sebastian shuddered violently at the thought of the woman working with him, "Good Morning," Sebastian added with a polite smile. She sighed and glanced over her shoulder at Claude, "How long is this useless Patisserie Cook going to stay?" Sebastian's eyes widened, she certainly was dripping in sensuality, however her disposition was repulsive. "Until he decides to quit or Ciel fires him," replied Claude with a shrug, once this was in the air he turned his attention to the Grower with the list.

Three chefs who looked identical entered as well, each of them had a different color armband on. Sebastian rubbed his eyes unconsciously, he didn't remember drinking anything and he wasn't hung over. It wasn't until they stopped before Claude that he realized they were real. "Color coded for convenience," commented Sebastian as he looked at the three purple haired chefs. Each of them had amber brown eyes and were relatively short. "Morning boss," said the one with a green band. "Good Morning Head Chef," rang the second, there was a red band around his arm. Even their voices were similar, it was slightly unnerving. "Your glasses are dirty," said the third as he pointed at the silver rimmed frames on Claude's face. Claude plucked the glasses from his nose and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe them. "Thank you, Thompson," he remarked as he cleaned them and then placed them on his nose.

Thompson nodded and shuffled away, "Canterbury, Timber, check and see if Alistair is here. I need to know what's in le Cave, we have VIPs coming and they have specific favorites," he stated. Sebastian paused and looked at Claude; he was talking about a wine cellar and using the proper French name for it. Perhaps this man did know his stuff. "Right away," said one of them before vanishing. "Michaelis! Ciel wants to see you," called a familiar voice. It was the short blond with sky blue eyes from the day before. "Alois, he's still prepping," commented Claude as he looked up from the list. Alois shrugged and responded, "It's Ciel, since when is he reasonable?" he asked sarcastically.

Claude groaned and nodded, "Go Michaelis," he breathed before turning back to Finnian. Sebastian nodded as he walked over to Alois and followed the young man. "Ciel is being a bit difficult, just hand in there," said Alois after a moment. His hands were behind his back as he walked and oddly he hips swayed in a way which, reminded Sebastian of a French prostitute. "Is he always difficult?" asked Sebastian after a moment as he looked at the blond. Alois sighed and shrugged, "He's been like that for a while, he's busy proving himself to Vincent. He's always been like that," he commented. Sebastian hummed after a moment, he didn't know he had a father until recently when debt collectors came knocking on his door. "Always?' he asked hesitantly as he followed Alois across the dining room. "Pretty much, I've known him since High School," responded the bubbly bartender as he stopped before a large wooden door. "This is his office," he commented before knocking on the door.

"Enter," called a cool voice before Sebastian could open the door. Sitting in a large chair in front of a window behind a massive mahogany desk was Ciel Phantomhive. "You wanted to see me," said Sebastian nervously as he heard the door latch behind him. The vague parallel of goliath being tossed into the lion's den came to him. He wasn't interested in seeing the nasty streak in his employer. "Yes," he said smoothly as he placed the pages he had been reading flat on the desk and clasped his hands together. The bright blue gem in his thumb ring which represented the family crest glistened in the light as a smirk curved his lips. "I would like to introduce you to the dinners through a special dish," he said stated as his sapphire blue eyes were locked on Sebastian. He really didn't have anywhere to run, "What kind of dish?" asked the chef after a moment. Before he thought Ciel would rip him a new one, now he simply seemed interested in showing off his newest employee. "A cake, as for the type and taste you figure that out. You have all day before opening to decide on what to make and execute it in time for the dinner rush," he stated.

Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement, he was about to walk out when Ciel cleared his throat and continued, "If you don't do well tonight, I will fire you," he stated bluntly. He knew that clause had to be thrown in there, burgundy red eyes glanced back at a pair of dancing saphire's. This man wasn't joking, "Unless you can't do it," said Ciel with a broad grin. Sebastian shook his head as he mustered up what little confidence he had left and responded, "That's not an issue. I will make it a beautiful desert. Just for you," he said with a smile. Ciel nodded and waved his hand to dismiss the chef, "Little Master," muttered Sebastian as he left Ciel's office. His request was unreasonable, in such a short period he was expected to come up with something extravagant. Something which would reflect who he was as a chef, and potentially put Ciel, back on the map.

* * *

He spent the rest of the afternoon making pastry dough, fillings and prepping for the rush. He could hear the other chefs conversing in the other section of the kitchen, "Did you see the new_Pậtissier_?" asked Canterbury. Sebastian walked through the kitchen and entered the walk in to grab another carton of heavy cream. "Oh you mean pretty boy?" asked a new voice. It was rather loud and slightly irritating, "He's super young to be working here, I mean hell Claude is what 35?" he asked. Sebastian was carrying the carton, he stared at the gentleman leaning against the counter. He had dark brown hair which was parted and combed back. His green eyes pierced through a pair of rectangular black metal frames, "I'm 25 and one of the top _Sommeliers_ in London," he commented as he adjusted his glasses with his black gloved fingers. Standing next to him was a rather tall man with long red hair that was tied into a pony tail with a ribbon, he was wearing a pair of heels, tight pants and a bright red vest. There was a set of red glasses on his nose, and he smiled brightly. "Well he looks delicious, but I wonder if he can really cook," commented the red head. The_ Sommelier_ shot him a dirty look, "Sutcliff, do you have to flirt with everything?" he asked as he crossed his arms and glared.

Sutcliff huffed and looked at him before fixing his hair, "Oh come on, he is delicious looking. I wouldn't mind tasting him," he gushed. Sebastian involuntarily shivered; the red-head was starting to frighten him. He had met plenty of gays before, but transvestites were a different story. One too many of them had tried to get him to screw them. The kitchen fell silent when the door closed and there was a loud snap. "Back to work we open in a few hours and I want this place ready to go," barked a familiar voice. His tone was ice cold, and Sebastian stared at Claude. He was dressed in his black jacket with his hat on. He looked stunning in black; his golden eyes pierced each and every one of the chefs, a silent threat to those who weren't working. "Spears, I'd like to look at the wine selections for the evening, we have several specials to be served," Claude commented as Ronald followed the head chef.

Sebastian returned to his preparations, it sounded like a mad dash in the rest of the kitchen. As they created rues, sliced veritable and began basting meets, Sebastian was making a variety of cakes and bases. His oven was roaring as he continued to bake each sheet and pop them out. He could feel a cold gaze on him from time to time. He figured the Head Chef would simply observe. "A Raspberry Tranche?" asked a familiar velvety voice, Sebastian looked up to see a look of genuine curiosity on Claude's face. His eyes were locked on the raspberry filling Sebastian was using to put the stripes down the cake. "Yes," responded Sebastian as he finished the stripe and turned his attention to the icing. "You didn't tell me you were going to make this," Claude stated, his voice gained a cool edge, which cut through the pastry chef like a knife. "I was asked to by the owner," he stammered in confusion.

Claude blanched and stared at Sebastian, "That was why he called you to his office?" he asked angrily. His golden eyes flickered dangerously as they narrowed, his gaze was heavy and he felt as though he were going to be stabbed with a knife. "Yes," responded Sebastian slowly. The golden eyed chef drew a deep breath and looked at the rest of the staff, "Why must he do this, he should have informed me, and you know better," spat Claude, his words were dripping with venom as he thought of a way to execute this. "Knox! I need Spears, now! We need a list of coffees and teas to be pared with the owner's whim!" he barked. It looked as though the Head Chef were going to kill the pastry chef.

His eyes floated over the bench, and he noticed five cakes completed, "That's not merely enough," he stated bluntly. Something flickered in Claude's eyes for a moment he looked panicked and then it slowly vanished as that cool façade returned. Chefs clamored to prepare what they had to, "Get the ovens lit!" he called. "Yes chef!" called a young woman. He turned to Sebastian and hissed, "Pull it together, or I will kick you out personally." Sebastian shuttered as he watched the man walk away, it was clear that this place was far from heaven, it was hell with a beautiful façade.

Sebastian finished making several batches of ice cream and fillings. His eyes widened as the orders flew in, each chef worked with expert speed and skill, "Hot Pan!" shouted one loudly as they dashed across the room behind another chef. Each one of them worked like a well oiled Swiss clock, with Claude as it's keeper. He floated from station to station nit-picking, adjusting, demanding and more often than not attempting to save something. "This is shit, throw it out and start again," he stated angrily, his voice would be heard through the kitchen which made Sebastian jump. His red eyes fluttered over to the violet haired chef, he was yelling at the woman who had come in decked in leather. There was a golden spoon in his hands, and he was glaring at the pot of what looked like a reduction of some kind.

"The consistency is wrong, and you've burned the bottom. Start again, this time watch what you're doing," he stated as he rinsed the golden spoon in the sink and slipped it back into his pocket. Hannah glared at him before dumping it and beginning again, "Fucking Spider," she hissed. Claude didn't stop however his eyes shifted to the side, Sebastian was beginning to wonder if he had superhuman hearing. He sighed and shook his head, "You called?" asked a stiff voice from before, standing in a brilliant three-piece suit with an aqua tie was Spears. He was standing before Claude and seemed to have very little interest in being called on. Once a restaurant was open the front of the house was expected to stay there, it was clear not many people were ordering wine or asked for the assistance of the_ Sommelie_r.

Claude snapped his fingers and jabbed his finger at Sebastian, "Work your magic," he grunted before returning to his tirade on the poor performance of chefs. William hummed and nodded, he had a beautiful stride and seemed to dominate the floor as he moved, he wasn't as intimidating as Claude who towered over the others and had a gaze which froze kings, but close. The slender man came to a stop before Sebastian's table, his eyes glided over the deserts which had been made, "A Raspberry _Tranche_, I haven't seen one of those served here in a long time," he mused. Sebastian looked up for a moment and nodded, "William T. Spears, _Sommelier_," he stated firmly, it was as though they were at a business meeting and he was meeting the other party for the first time. "Sebastian Michaelis, the new _Pậtissier_," he responded with a nod.

William picked up a knife, there was a plate in his hand which he had lifted from the drain, and asked, "Which one may I sample?" He looked at the beautiful cream colored bar like cake. There were two bright red stripes down the top edged with butter cream icing. He had coated the sides in toasted almonds to accent the flavor and added a touch of lemon to the batter to bring out the tartness of the berries to contrast the sweetness of the butter cream. Sebastian paused and picked up his edge in moments one of the cakes was sliced into a thin piece, "I didn't think you wanted a full serving," he commented. He watched the man nodded and slowly pull a silver fork, part of Sebastian wondered if everyone in this establishment walked around with forks or spoons in their pockets. He didn't put it past Claude though, being Head Chef meant he had to taste every dish before it left his kitchen. The _Sommelier_ slipped the fork between his lips and stared at the cake, a low groan left his lips as a smiled curved his lips. Sebastian picked up the pastry bag again and continued to ice a cake. "So this was what he was raving about," muttered William as he placed the fork down and looked at Sebastian. "I know what to pair it with, I'll tell the head chef to relax," he responded before walking away with the plate and fork in hand.

An hour passed, and the kitchen was filled with the clamor of chefs dashing about, making last-minute orders and compensating for something going wrong. Plating, cooking, slicing and dicing all seemed to happen at the same time as Sebastian worked the dough for another desert. There was a pause as the Head Waiter called, "Chef!" Claude's head snapped in his direction, and he continued, "Angelina Durless, the food critic is out there," he stated. The kitchen stilled and Claude walked over to him, it was as though he had seen a ghost. He approached the doors and looked out to the crowd, sure enough she was perched in one of the chairs. "What does she want?" asked the golden eyed head chef hesitantly. The blond head waiter sighed and responded, "Something different for dessert." There was a pause, she must have heard the rumor about the new pastry chef.

The Head Chef looked like a deer caught at the head lights, "How on earth did she?" he paused and came to the realization that Ciel had probably invited her to dinner. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, he hadn't even had a chance to taste Sebastian's desert. He always checked every dish, "What did you tell her?" he asked after a moment. Ronald groaned and responded, "I told her I would ask you!" Claude hissed as he looked at Sebastian, his eyes were locked on the cake, "Serve the _Raspberry_ _Tranche_, and tell William to serve the wine he chose," replied Claude after a moment. He felt insecure about allowing it to leave the kitchen without a proper taste.

Sebastian was in his own world preparing two orders of _Petit Fours_. "Okay go," barked Sebastian to the waiters, he watched them twist and leave the kitchen it was as though they had Apperated, he was quite impressed. Oddly the crazy red head was set in work mode and hadn't made any other off the walls comments about his looks. "Dessert order!" cried a blond waiter, he had a pair of glasses on his nose he looked young energetic but serious about his work. "I need 2 orders of the _Raspberry Tranche_ Cake!" he called. Sebastian dashed off and lifted one of the glass domes, he was glad to have had the time to ice the cake and make sure it set correctly. In moments it was on a tranche board and being sliced, he plated it with a beautiful raspberry streak on the bottom of the plate and nodded to the Head Waiter. Sebastian looked up to see how Claude's eyes were locked on the waiter as he vanished. He was standing at the door looking out the window, he was thankful the chef hadn't caught him ogling.

After a moment the waiter returned and turned his attention to Claude, Sebastian couldn't make out what was being said, he simply hoped he hadn't messed up. He had altered the recipe to suit his taste and who he was as a chef. The waiter was beaming with satisfaction and returned to the floor, Sebastian's hands stopped moving as his eyes fell on Claude. He seemed confident and returned to his post, it was odd for a moment he could have sworn he had seen the man actually smile. "Let's go_ Pâttisier_! I don't have all day!" called the very same loud and obnoxious voice from that morning. The redhead was standing before him and glaring, "You know you're hot but slow," he commented and hummed as he watched Sebastian finish plating. This place was hell, hot, fast paced and demanding. "Yes sorry! Go!" he shouted as he shooed the waiter away.

The night was hell, ovens roaring, chefs running and Sebastian felt as though he were going to collapse. It was only now he realized he hadn't eaten anything since that morning, he had snuck an egg in and a little toast. In all honesty he didn't want to see food at this moment, he simply wanted to find a place to crash. He was still upset about being screamed at by Claude. He knew he was bound to make a few mistakes, however, that was a large one. One which he should have never made. His shoulders dropped as he sighed, all the other chefs had left, asking one another out for late drinks and going to enjoy the night. He was standing alone in an empty kitchen, "Who knew what looked like heaven on the outside was actually hell," he commented as he slipped the rest of his tools in his bag. They were clean and he had finally finished cleaning his station and cleaning his scales.

He paused and laughed, he knew better, "No, everyday is hell, even in the kitchen," he whispered as he remembered the reason he was up early in the mornings. He knew that, he drew a deep breath and rolled his sleeves down to leave. "Heaven is an illusion," he whispered, "As is happiness." His voice seemed to hover in the air as he left the kitchen, perhaps tomorrow would be better.

* * *

**Terms:**

_Pậtissier_: The French name for a Pastry Chef

_Sommelier_: A specialist trained in wine pairing, they know everything about the bottle from the range of prices per bottle to the finest pairings and reasons behind them. These guys are highly trained and spend years learning about different wines and pairings as well as experimenting with combinations of flavors.

_Petit Fours_: Small treats which are made for the change in seasons. They vary in color combination and style, they are rather fashionable and enjoyable to both eat and give.

_Tranche_: Meaning Slice in French or in this case a type of cake which is in the shape of a bar and perfect for slicing.

_The title:_ "A Slice of Hell"


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: I've gotten a phenomenal response to this story, I'm glad you guys are interested enough to read it. I wanted to have a little fun and embrace my inner foodie who has a tendency of pouting. We all have an inner foodie, so let's let them drool a little over not only treats, but the hot chefs behind them. _

_Promocat: I'm so happy you saw the parallel between the two chefs, I just couldn't resist. I want to make this realistic and humorous to counter act the dark themes I will be touching on. _

_CrimsonRoseXX: Thank you for the interest and I promise you there is more coming! As for Sebastian being French... I'm not sure. I haven't thought his back story out that far. I may make him an Englishman who moved to France at a very young age. I'm not sure, good question... I wish I had a better answer. _

_Okay now for the Thank Yous! (Yes I PM and post it here if you are wondering, hey you guys need some respect and I want you guys to be happy!) _

_For adding to Alerts: ShaunaMcAllister, KxZ fan girl._

_For adding to both Favorites and Alerts: phantomkrystal, ElectroKat, 08GeishaGirl_

_Thank you all of you who are reading this little story! You guys make this so much more fun!_

_Warning: This chapter contains a rather dark and suggestive themes. Proceed with caution. There is a hint of abuse and rape as well, just a warning. _

_Enjoy,_

_Kuro._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Desert 3: The Bitterness of Chocolate**

_Hands slipped over soft skin, the very feeling of them made his skin crawl. "You've been tempting me, Sebastian," cooed a dark voice. He thrashed against the touch, "No, I haven't," he cried. Those bright red eyes glared back at him with ghost like white hair, "These hips are so tempting," the voice commented as large hands caressed his skin, making it burn in their wake. "Please, stop! I promise I won't run again!" he cried in terror, his chest was heaving as he attempted to run only to be tied to a bed. His hair was grabbed roughly, his scalp hurt from the sheer force which was used to grab him. Before he could register what was happening his small body was being flung against a wall, he slammed into it and was forced to lay on a dirty mattress. It smelt terrible, metallic like blood and sweat. There were brown and red stains on it, he trembled in fear as he felt his hands being bound._

_"Please don't," he whimpered as he felt the leather of belt nip his hands, leaving angry welts in it's wake. He was violently turned over and felt those slimy hands travel down his skin, "Soft like silk," cooed the man, it was deep and raspy. Tears burned his eyes as he attempted to fight, "Please I just wanted to see the garden!" he whimpered, "I wanted to see the roses! I promise I won't sneak out again!"_

_Icy cold laughter left his attacker's lips, it was dark and made Sebastian's blood freeze. "Oh no, naughty boys should be punished." Sebastian looked over his shoulder to see a black riding crop, in the man's hands. The leather switch trailed up his back, and he tapped Sebastian's shoulder. "Please," he cried, tears were threatening his eyes as he looked at the man who was supposed to protect him. "Rules are rules, Little Demon," he jeered. Sebastian was about to protest only to feel the crack of the leather switch, it burned. He bit his lip and clenched his fists._

_"Count them!" barked his attacker. He was tied up and displayed like a piece of meat for this man, "Count to Thirty!" he barked again. Sebastian trembled as he tried to suppress his cries, knowing that if he cried out it would result in a greater number. "One," he choked, his eyes closed, and he felt the crop make contact. It left angry marks in its wake as he counted, his voice breaking and his back felt as though it were on fire. He wanted it to end, it had to end soon, this hell of his had to end._

_"Thirty!" he screamed in agony, his attacker was finally satisfied._

_"Such a beautiful boy, now then the rest of your punishment," the man stated. Sebastian's eyes widened with terror. "Stop!" he screamed. That familiar pain of being violated he felt as though his hips would split, "You like this Sebastian, you're a demon after all," he commented as he drove himself deeper. Sebastian could feel the tearing and cried in agony._

"STOP!" he screamed as he shot up. His eyes darted around the room in confusion until he finally realized he wasn't in that room. He wasn't receiving punishments like he had. Sebastian's chest was heaving and he felt his heart pounding in his chest. Burgundy eyes drifted to the alarm clock which rested on the nightstand, it was 2 am. He whined and knit his fingers through his unruly black hair and closed his eyes. "Please leave me alone," he whimpered as he shoved the covers off of his clammy body and got up, he needed a shower.

He had to wash it all away, it was as though he could still feel that man's touch, "Disgusting," he whispered as he turned the shower on. He threw off his boxers and stepped in without a second warm water was soothing against his skin, "I'm free of that place now," he whispered as he wrapped his arms around himself, "Free of him." Without thinking he slid down and curled up on the floor of his shower, as the images of his nightmare slowly flowed down the drain along with the sweat and tears that had streaked his face. "I'm free," he whispered again before closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around his knees. The shivers finally calmed down as he sat there to escape the realm of nightmares. He was far from that place now, away from the man's reach and yet he still felt him in his dreams.

~~xXx~~

It began to rain, and Claude sighed as he looked out the kitchen window of his flat, he had a cup of coffee in hand and the paper in the other. His eyes were locked on a specific review by the woman who had showed up by surprise the night before. He smiled as he read the review, he was happy to see Sebastian adjusting to the demands of the kitchen, and it showed in his Tranche. His eyes glided over the opening again and again, proud to think that he had saved Michaelis from walking out the door and never returning.

_"A delightful new Pâtissier has arrived at Ciel. After asking for something new from the Dessert Menu I was presented with a slice of Raspberry Tranche cake, which at first I wasn't impressed by. However, looks are always deceiving when it comes to Ciel. It was perfectly executed, balanced and delightful. The Butter Cream icing that many chefs failed to make properly was perfect, it melted in the mouth and wasn't too sweet. It was clear the entire thing was made from scratch, the cake was fluffy and light, the filling was just the right level of sweetness and the lemon added a delightful tang which the almonds harmonized. If there is one dish to order at Ciel, skip the meal and go straight for the cake. It's to die for."_

Claude wasn't a fool, he knew this was going to result in a rush and a massive wave of customers looking for pastries. There were two things which were profitable, wine and dessert. Wine because when a customer ordered a bottle they felt compelled to finish it which meant another course, and dessert because per piece it was the cheapest thing to produce, nearly all profit. He was proud yet at the same times something was nagging at him, he had seen Sebastian at the end of the night before he left, something was very wrong.

He was rough on all the chefs, to keep things even. Yet there was something lurking under the surface, there was hope and love in his pastries. A kindness which he could never imagine to capture, yet there was something else inside the chef. Something dark and sinister, he could remember the words Sebastian said verbatim. "No, everyday is hell, even in the kitchen. Heaven is an illusion, as is happiness," Claude whispered as he looked at the article. He felt more confused than ever, a man with such darkness in his heart was able to cook food with love in it. It was as though he were trying to atone for something. He paused and looked at his black coffee, before shaking his head and sighing, "I'm over thinking it, he may have just had a rough night," he commented. He stretched his arms over his head and cracked his back, "So quiet," he commented as he crossed his legs and leaned on the island.

An obnoxious ringing filled the air, causing the golden eyed chef to groan, "I spoke too soon," he commented as he walked over to the door. He didn't bother putting a shirt on, he thought little of covering up. He had been complimented for how muscular he was and his carriage several times, it was far too early for him to get dressed for the day, thus he wanted around in his loungers. He slipped his glasses on and looked through the peephole. "Great," he groaned as he rested his head on the door. "Claude, come on open up! I brought breakfast!" gushed the all to the familiar voice of a certain bubbly sex driven blond bartender. He slowly opened the door, "Alois, it's 7 am, what the blazes are you doing here?" he asked with irritation.

It was only then that he noted the bottle of tequila he had been toteting around with him, "Claude!" he slurred. It honestly amazed him that Alois had survived this long without giving himself alcohol poisoning. Claude leaned in the doorway and crossed his arms, Alois was smashed. "Oi, you don't intend to pour that over your cereal do you?" he asked as he looked at the nearly empty bottle. Alois looked confused for a moment and lifted the bottle up, "This?" he asked as he tilted his head to the side. "That's an excellent idea! Do you got cereal?" he asked as he wavered. Claude sighed as he rubbed his temples, a drunk bartender was not his idea of a nice Sunday morning. "Come in," he said after a moment of contemplation where the blond might go next. He could only pray that Grell hadn't had too much otherwise he might jump William and that wouldn't be pretty.

Alois cheered as he walked into the house, his hips swaying more than usual, he shook his head with irritation as he watched the blond attempt to walk a straight line. He internally groaned as he plucked the bottle from Alois, "Okay let's sleep this off, and I'll make you a strong cup of coffee once you wake up," Claude stated as he placed the bottle on the counter. The blond crossed his arms and pouted, "I was drinkin' that!" he protested. Claude shook his head and without warning hoisted Alois over his shoulder and responded, "Not anymore, now be a good boy and get some sleep," he commented as he began to carry him.

"Hey! Stupid put me down!" shouted Alois as he banged on Claude's back with his fists. The chef knew it wouldn't do him any good and had grown accustomed to his drunken behavior. "Nope, bedtime for the drunk," he confirmed as he dropped Alois on his bed, which was covered in a rich plum-colored comforter and gold sheets. "I'm not drunk," he retorted, all of it slurred together to the point Claude began to wonder if it were possible to speak in cursive. "Oh trust me, you are," he commented as he walked into his bathroom and brought over the plastic wastebasket for Alois to hurl in. "Use this, not my sheets. I finally replaced the last ones you destroyed," Claude stated gruffly. It was a mystery to him why he tolerated this side of Alois, however he figured if he didn't Alois would simply end up lying in a ditch somewhere, again.

The chef was snapped from his thoughts when he felt something tugging at the waistband of his loungers. His eyes were locked on the giggling drunk blond who was now attempting to get his loungers off. "Oh no," Claude yelled as he pushed Alois back, "I'm not sleeping with a drunk, I'm not that desperate!" His eyes were wide as he backed away from the bed. He had forgotten that Alois was worse when he was drunk and mentally smacked himself behind the head for that. "What? But Claudy-bear! I'm horny!" he whined as he crawled across the bed and attempted to grab Claude again. "No I think you're sleepy, yes, very sleepy and very drunk," he responded.

Alois puffed out his cheeks and sighed, "Then take off my shirt so I don't ruin it!" he demanded. Claude lifted an eyebrow to this and asked, "Do I look like a butler to you?" Alois' eyes lit up, and he clapped his hands together, "That's a great idea! Only I would hire a butler as solemn and expressionless as you," he commented. Claude sighed and rolled his eyes before walking over and grabbing Alois' collar. The blond looked confused until the head chef slowly unbuttoned the shirt, it was easier to remove it from the drunkard than to have to clean it later. Alois laughed and twirled his foot as Claude pulled the shirt off his shoulders. He wasn't paying attention until he felt something rubbing his clothed member. He looked between his legs and noticed Alois was grinding his foot on his member.

"Come on Claudy-Bear, fuck me," said Alois giggled as he wrapped his fingers around Claude's glasses and snatched them from his face. He honestly didn't have an interest in this now, he wanted to get back to enjoying his coffee. "Alois give those back," he stated as he reached for them. The blond held them away and grinned, "Give me a kiss and I'll give them back," he squeaked. Claude sighed, there didn't seem to be away around this. He leaned over and planted a kiss on Alois' forehead as he snatched his glasses. "That's not a kiss!" he shouted childishly. Claude smirked with joy as he slipped away and placed the frames on his face, "Yes it is, you didn't say where," he stated. Alois grumbled something and yawned, "You're no fun," he commented before laying on his chest.

Claude crossed his arms and looked at the bartender, "Your version of fun? No. Besides you're not my type," he stated. Alois hummed, and his eyes began to droop, Claude wouldn't have to put up with his antics much longer, soon enough he would be fast asleep. "Hey I'm popular, just cuz I'm 'ere with you, don't mean I ain't cool," he slurred. At that the blond passed out and Claude shook his head, it amazed him how badly he could butcher the Queen's English when he was drunk. "I guess I have to make him breakfast, I don't think I'll have enough coffee to combat that hang over though," he commented as he walked back into the kitchen.

~~xXx~~

After about four hours the drunk bartender know as Alois finally roused. He clutched the side of his head as he walked and groaned as though he were dying. Claude hummed as he slipped the eggs out of the frying pan and accompanied them with bacon. "I think those Jamaicans are playing the beatnik on my head," he groaned as he sat on a stool in the kitchen. Claude chuckled as he placed the ordinary plate of bacon and eggs before the hung over bartender.

"How's the hangover?" he asked after a moment. Alois looked up and hissed as the morning light hit his eyes, "Fuck dude! Why are there strobes in the window?" he asked. Claude simply shook his head as he closed the curtains, "That was the sun," he commented. Alois looked confused for a moment, "It was? Has it always been that bright?" he asked after a moment. Claude groaned, clearly he wasn't fully out of his stupor, "Yes." Alois gaped at him open-mouthed, he looked like a child who had just learned that babies weren't delivered by storks. "Really?" he asked before stabbing one of the fluffy cloud like eggs with it. His sky blue eyes locked on the morsel, and he commented, "Eggs are so... yellow."

The chef stared at him and began to wonder what else the blond had gotten into, "Okay, time for coffee!" he declared as he grabbed the largest mug he owned and filled it. Today was going to be an interesting one, he knew that for sure.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian had managed to pull himself together enough to go to work, he was a little sleepy, however it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He walked over to his station and noticed that the same jaguar was parked in the parking lot. He vaguely began to wonder who owned the car as he opened his bag and looked over his tools. "Good morning, Michaelis," greeted a familiar voice. His head snapped up to see Claude walking in with jeans and a tee-shirt on, he looked different when he wasn't dressed in his gear. "Morning," he responded as he looked at the man who had a garment bag over his shoulder. "Did you look in the paper this morning?" he asked curiously. Sebastian paused and followed him, "No," he responded.

He closed the door behind him and looked at the tall chef who was now standing at his desk. Claude smiled and pulled the paper that he had read that morning off his desk and handed it to him. "See page 9," Faustus instructed as he unclasped his belt. Sebastian was reading the article until he heard the familiar sound. His eyes widened and he felt nauseous, "She sang praises for you, I'm not going to let up on you," said Claude as he slipped the long brown leather belt from around his waist. Sebastian eyes were locked on it, he may not have been his attacker but he was still rattled. "Really?" he asked curiously as he tugged at the collar of his jacket.

Claude nodded as he wound his belt up to prevent it from getting in the way and slapped it against his hand as he responded, "Yup." The sound echoed in Sebastian's ears, as he slowly backed into the office door, he had forgotten he had closed it. "You should expect more orders to come in and," Claude paused and asked, "Michaelis?" Sebastian closed his eyes and looked at Claude, "Yes?" The Head Chef's eyes narrowed in confusion and asked, "Were you listening?" Sebastian nodded in an exaggerated manner, and Claude set the belt on his desk before sweeping his hand through his hair. "Alright, we are adding the Tranche to the menu so don't be shocked if you see more orders," he commented. Sebastian swallowed and nodded, he had to get out of the room, he wasn't comfortable with the belt. "May I go start prep?" asked Sebastian hastily. Claude looked at him slightly confused and responded, "Sure, go on." The burgundy eyed chef swiftly left Claude's office and went to his station. His hands were trembling and he felt dizzy again. He leaned against the counter to catch his balance and drew a soothing breath. His mind told him Claude wasn't that man, but his body still reacted whenever he saw the belt. It was a conditional reflex of his which he couldn't seem to shake.

He walked over to the sink and ran his hands under cold water, it was nice to read such an encouraging review, however he just couldn't push the night before out of his mind. "Breath Sebastian," he whispered as he drew another shaky breath and closed his eyes. "You're in the kitchen, this is your element, focus," he chided himself before opened his eyes and resuming preparations. He had to make all the Tranche cakes from scratch again simply because he had sold out the night before. Oddly after the customers had seen the first piece leave the kitchen others wanted the same. It must have been something Ciel hadn't seen in a long time, which confused him. Tranche were the simplest of desserts to make and yet here it was treated as though he had served a tort. He shook his head and returned to work, he had a great deal to do in so little time, it was going to be difficult if he didn't pull it together. He had to continue to impress, "Okay then, let's get these Tranche out of the way so I can move onto the difficult stuff," he commented.

He slipped into overdrive and didn't even noticed that the others had arrived, nothing else mattered but his cakes and dishes. He picked up a bowl and began to make the filling for the Tranche cake. There was a great deal to do, unlike an entrée chef, the pastry chef had to bake a great deal of things in advance. Petit Fours were the most demanding, each of the little cakes had to be baked, filled, iced and decorated one by one. He popped each one out of the pans and smelt the scent of oranges and spices in the air, it was warming and soothing. He had made a chocolate filling and selected a beautiful icing and pattern to use. "Looks good," commented a familiar voice, it was gruff and had a slight rasp. He looked up to see the sommelier from the night before. He was in a different suit and tie, his hair was combed in place, and he wore a simple pair of glasses.

"I'm glad," responded Sebastian with a small smile as he picked up an edge and began to spread the filling on the bottoms of the cakes. The sommelier was quiet until he said, "Your Tranche cake was really good, as were a number of your other desserts. I would love to pair your desserts with coffee and tea, if you don't mind, when you have time that is," William stated slowly. He was hesitant and seemed to think out each word before saying it. Sebastian placed the tops on and began to drizzle the cover layer over them, the dark chocolate fell like satin on to the warm cakes so it would spread evenly. William's eyes were locked on the delicate dark ribbon falling from the glass bowl, delicately over each treat. He picked up a pastry bag filled with a colored cream and began to slowly pipe it. He created a small decorative rose over the dark chocolate, each petal was perfect and William fought the urge to snatch one and pop it in his mouth. "You can try one," commented Sebastian as he went to the next cube. William cleared his throat as he reached for a fork which was resting off to the side and remarked, "Thank you."

Sebastian simply nodded and continued to put the roses on the cakes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see William taking a bite of the small piece. His eyes fluttered closed and he purred with satisfaction before swallowing and looking at the cube. He hummed and then looked at Sebastian, "It's sweet yet bitter, such a contradiction. The spices play up the orange and help in blending the beautiful dark chocolate into the treat. The orange is so lively yet the dark chocolate seems to restrain it. Why such a bitter chocolate?" he asked. Sebastian paused and looked up at the sommelier, he had forgotten that sensitive palate wasn't reserved for simply wine. His red eyes fell on the Sommelier who looked genuinely intrigued, "Because life is bitter sometimes, and even a pastry chef needs a reminder from time to time," he replied, before turning back to work. The Sommelier stayed and continued to watch Sebastian work, clearly he had already selected the wines for the VIPs coming that evening and was taking the time to enjoy the kitchen. "And as for my offer?" asked William slowly.

He paused and looked up again, he hadn't ignored it, however he wasn't sure how to respond. "Sure, that would be wonderful," Sebastian replied as he looked up he noticed William was still watching him and figured he too was amused by his had been told many times which he was in school by professionals and other students that it was a treat to simply watch him create. His gaze was different when he looked at the treats he was crafting as compared to when he looked at people. It was soft and affectionate, it were as though he were a different person. "Anything else?" asked Sebastian politely which caused the Sommelier to jump. He looked at him a little confused and responded, "Ah, no. Just admiring, keep up the good work," he snapped before marching off. Sebastian sighed and commented, "Well he's an odd one."

~~xXx~~

Alois hummed as he walked into Ciel's office, he had grown accustomed to having to barge in to see his best friend. "Hey Ciel, clearly last night went well," he chirped as he jumped up and took a seat on the large mahogany desk. The slate haired young man sighed and looked at him, "Alois, don't sit on my desk," he commented as he looked up at the blond. He was in a pair of booty shorts and those long boots that made Alois' look oh so cute. He crossed his arms and pouted, "I'm not the one who should be cheering about the fact that you have a wonderful crew downstairs and a super cute pastry chef," he commented. Ciel hummed and slipped one page behind the next and continued, "He's just another chef, pastry chefs are a dime a dozen. Besides, Claude was the one who wanted him, he belongs to a cooking show more than my kitchen." Alois paused, Ciel did take a look at Sebastian and saw him as more than just a chef. This made him smile a little, "So you admit he is good-looking," said Alois with a hint of triumph.

Ciel turned tomato red and dropped his pages, "That is preposterous, he's a man!" Alois hummed and chuckled, he hadn't seen Ciel this flustered in a long time. This was starting to get more and more enjoyable, "Grell likes him too, you know he's pretty hot. Perhaps you should have him walk out on the floor. I'm sure the women will love you for it," commented Alois. Claude was a looker as well, however with his cold gaze he would scare people. Sebastian was startlingly beautiful and looked as though he had walked off of a billboard and was baking as a hobby. "Alois, what are you thinking?" asked Ciel after a moment, clearly he wasn't going to be fooled by him. Alois sighed and swung his legs before crossing them again, "Come on, you and I both know seeing Sebastian on the floor will increase the sale of desert, besides we both know you wouldn't be mean to him if you didn't like him just a little," he commented.

The slate haired teen slipped through his hair and sighed, "You're imagining things, he's arrogant and rather irritating. I didn't like the way he treated me so now I'll make him miserable," he stated simply. The blond shook his head and hummed, "Besides, it's nice to have something new to play with," he commented. Alois jumped off Ciel's desk and planted a kiss on his cheek, "Don't over do it," he jeered before licking the shell of Ciel's ear. The 20 year old leaned back and groaned, "Flirt with the filthy spider, not me Alois," he barked. The blond simply waved and threw in a little more sass into his step as he walked away, swinging his hips as he went. He knew he would have to get changed soon enough, but he just loved his boots.

Alois had grown up a great deal since he had first met Ciel, however some things still remained the same, he loved his shorts and liked tight-fitting clothing which emphasised how trim his body was. He wasn't ashamed of his sexuality, unlike Ciel, who was in denial and even had a fiancée. A long blond-haired woman in a pink blouse was walking down the hall she was wearing a pencil skirt and her blond curls fell past her shoulders. She had an adorable pair of stilettos on and a tight vest, there were ruffles down the front of her shirt. She had a pair of large emerald-green eyes and chirped, "Hey Alois, is Ciel in his office?" Alois smiled as he looked at the young woman, she was a babe and one of the few people who accepted his preference. "Who? The Slate beauty? Yeah he's brooding again," replied Alois with a shrug. The blond sighed and looked down the hall with a hint of sadness, Ciel never paid much attention to her, and yet they were engaged. "Jeez, why now?" she asked with a hint of irritation.

"The new Pastry Chef," replied Alois smoothly, "Lizzy why don't you see if you can get him to take a break?" he asked. Elizabeth Millford grinned and responded, "Great idea! Lau wanted to see him anyway. I still love those boots by the way!" she exclaimed as she looked at the tall brown leather boots with purple laces. Alois smiled brightly, this was where they really got along and drove Ciel absolutely nuts. They would spend an afternoon purchasing clothing for the young man who was cute and far more fun than what he owned. "Thanks, that's a good idea, either that or swing by and check out the chef, he's rather cute," commented Alois with a wink. Lizzy giggled brightly, she was like any other girl, even if she was engaged to Ciel she couldn't resist looking at an attractive man. "Oh?" she asked with a grin. Alois nodded and clasped his hands behind his back before turning to walk away, "You didn't hear it from me," he commented as he walked away. He knew Lizzy would drive Ciel crazy, but it would get him out of brooding and torture mode, which meant he was less tempted to take it out on his staff. A bonus for the bartender and the rest of the staff who could be subjected to the young man's cruelty. His head was still hurting from his escapades last night, however it would go away soon.

He could still remember the ramblings of a plastered Grell. The redhead waiter spent all night gushing about how he wanted Sebastian, the new chef, to screw him and somehow impregnate him. Grell gave transvestites a bad name, however he was getting used to his constant flirting with Ronald, William and even Claude. Nothing seemed out of that man's strike range. Alois sighed as he stepped into the locker room and got changed into his uniform, he didn't want Ciel to call him a slut, again. Alois wanted a steady partner, but came to the realization long ago that the one he wanted would never return his feelings. A fact of life when it came to someone who loved someone of the same gender. "Ugh it's Saturday and I have to work," he moaned as he slipped on his clip on bow tie, "Such a chore."


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: You guys are simply amazing, I'm glad so many of you are reading this piece. _

_promocat: I wanted to make Alois a little easier to understand. In the series I know his back story involves abuse however I also wanted him to potentially hook up with Ciel, because honestly it didn't explain why Alois was constantly making moves on Ciel. _

_MickisCloud: Thanks for the compliment, I know this plot is a little over used, however I just couldn't resist Sebastian pastries, the combination was far too good to pass up. _

_LittleTrancyGirl: I'm glad you are enjoying my work so far._

_Thank you, MickisCloud and Aiza173 for adding me to your alerts. Aiza173 I also want to thank you for not only following, but also adding this piece to your favorites, and both following and adding me to your favorites as an author. _

_I want to thank LittleTrancyGirl, some how you didn't make it on the list last time, but thank you for adding me to your alerts._

_On with the Chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 5: Dessert 3: The Bitterness of Chocolate**

The night stormed on as Sebastian wiped the sweat from his brow, the ovens were roaring as one person after another ordered a slice of the now famous Raspberry Trance Cake, a new signature dish of Ciel's. He leaned over the workbench, his eyes were locked on the flowers he was piping onto each piece, his hands were steady as he continued to decorate, even the green leaves came out perfectly. There was only one issue, Ciel was yet to order, Sebastian had heard from the other chefs that Ciel ate every night on the floor. For him to not arrive yet was unusual. "Special Order!" called Ronald loudly. It was the second night and Sebastian was still trying to get his bearings as he plated the dish. "Go!" he barked before turning his attention to the pastries resting on the trays. There were very few of the dark chocolate orange petit fours going out, and he began to question William's judgement. He sighed as he looked at the full cooling rack, it was a particular favorite of his, and yet so few people were eating it. "Perhaps the chocolate is too bitter," he mused as he looked over the small cakes.

He sighed and looked up to see Claude looking at all the dishes, except his, it annoyed him a little, the least the man could do was taste his food and tell him his thoughts on it. He hummed as he looked at the full tray, there weren't' any more desert orders, all people were eating was his Tranche. He knew it had been featured in the article as "The desert" to have at Ceil. However, it wasn't the only one. He made all of them, and his hands could attest to that. He groaned as Ronald called, "2 Special Orders!" Sebastian placed two pearl white plates on his table and cut the Tranche perfectly before placing it on the plate. It was the easiest thing to make and yet, they were going nuts for it. He looked at the petite fours again and was tempted to slip one in his mouth and find out why they weren't doing well. Perhaps he had gotten the ratio wrong, it was possible any chef would make the mistake.

The golden eyed head chef stopped before him and asked, "Micahelis, what's the matter?" His head snapped up after hearing the velvet like voice of the chef. "Nothing, chef," he responded without thought. Claude smiled as he slipped his golden fork out of his pocket and cut into one of the cakes without warning. He slowly slipped it into his mouth and hummed, his pink tongue darted out of his mouth and caressed his bottom lip to get the chocolate that was sticking to it. Sebastian found himself staring at him as he did this, he had seen people eat his pastries before, however none of them had a heated predatory gaze as they did so. He adjusted his glasses with his fingers, "It's different, not as sweet, yet not bitter. Spears had mentioned this earlier," he commented. Sebastian paused, he didn't think Claude was paying attention to his work, "The leaves are new, unless Spears nicked one before you finished icing it," he commented.

Claude had been paying attention to his work, contrary to his beliefs. "Then why isn't it moving?" asked Sebastian with a hint of irritation. The head chef paused and looked at him blankly, clearly he had no idea either. He was about to say something when Ronald walked over and stated, "Ciel is in the restaurant with his mother, father and Alcester Chambers, Alois' uncle." There was dead silence in the room, "What?" asked Claude there was a hint of disbelief in his voice and something else. Ronald nodded and looked at Sebastian, "Ciel has also requested that come time for dessert that Sebastian delivers it," Ronald added. The raven haired chef froze, he was expected to go out on the floor, the only time a chef did this was when the critic called them out. He nodded slowly and looked at the desserts, "Keep us posted," demanded Claude. Ronald nodded and returned to the floor.

Waiting on the other side in a room filled with soft violin music and the sound of shakers as liquor was mixed was the Phantomhive's and Alister. The atmosphere was warm throughout the floor and invited diners to enjoy the evening. Ciel's icy cold sapphire eyes floated over the floor as he looked at the guest laughing and enjoying their evening. None of them knew that he had planned to bring his Pastry chef onto the floor and command him to give him his best. He sat there smiling smugly when Alois walked over, he had changed out of his vest and apron and was now standing in a suit. "Alois, I'm glad you gave him time off so he could join us," commented Chambers. Ciel looked at the glass of wine on the table and picked it up with ease, William had introduced him to a sweet Burgundy which he honestly loved. Elizabeth returned from the powder room and looked at him.

She had changed out of the stereotypical pencil skirt into a dress which was supposed to grab his attention. Yet all Ciel cared about was the look on his Pastry Chef's face as he walked out of those doors. To be honest he wasn't originally planning to execute this, however Alois actually had a point. It would boost the attention which, Ciel was so deprived of and serve as a wonderful way to level the hot headed chef out. Vincent and Rachel were chatting over how well prepared the lobster was and he sighed, he wasn't into lobster and the only reason he had brought his parents was to prove to them he was capable of running this place. "Ciel, Claude is simply wonderful, please give him my regards," Rachel stated as she dabbed her lips with a napkin. Vincent didn't look convinced and looked at his son, "Ciel, we know Claude is superior in taste with entrees however that isn't what we came here for," he stated.

Ciel chuckled and nodded to Ronald who darted into the kitchen, "I'm well aware of what I told you, and you are about to witness it, in a tranche," he paused as Sebastian left the safe zone of the kitchen. His jacket was immaculately clean and, there was a hush which filled the room, he looked confident and calm as he walked across the floor. This wasn't the expression Ciel wanted nor the dish. He was expecting the Trance cake, not one of Sebastian's petit fours. Internally he was both fuming and panicking, Sebastian had a move of his own. A number of women stared at Sebastian as he walked, it was as though he had enchanted them with his charm, something which was working even on his fiancée. He glanced over to see Lizzy's lips parted and green eyes locked on his lean figure. Rachel was speechless as he stopped before the table with a tray of desserts in hand. Sebastian's hands didn't even shake, he looked firm and strong.

"Good evening, at Ciel's request I made a pastry which I felt exemplified who I am as a Pastry Chef," he said after a moment before placing a plate before each individual with a single small cake in the center. Vincent looked at Sebastian in confusion, his eyes narrowed and then to the cake. Ciel sighed and looked at the chef, he wasn't about to rip him apart on the floor without tasting it, somehow Sebastian had managed to pull himself together. Perhaps he would reward the chef if it tasted decent. He picked up his fork and slowly cut into it, his eyes widened as he watched the fluffy cake bend and then bounce back. Sebastian didn't usually use chocolate, he had yelled at Ciel for that when they first met.

He slowly took the corner he had cut off and put it in his mouth. A medley of spices and orange erupted with the chocolate to tie it together. He hadn't tasted something with this many layers of flavor in a desert in a long time. Sapphire eyes fell to the plate as he looked at the ornate blooming orange rose with green leaves at the base. It's stem wrapped around the edge and, only now did he realize the intricacy of the frosting, the combination of tastes and the bitter nip of chocolate on the tip of his tongue. Determined red eyes looked at Ciel and he paused, he honestly didn't waver he had served the dessert which reflected him. He could tell the base was a tort base, light fluffy, airy and very difficult to make.

"This is heavily," commented Rachel as she went to cut another piece out of the small cake. Vincent finally picked up his fork after hearing his wife's commented and took a bite, Ciel couldn't believe how his father's face change. It went from an expression of suspicion to admiration. Aleister Chambers took a bite and hummed with glee. "Oh my, so light and airy. Just like a maiden in a long flowing silk gown. Yet dark and mysterious, oh how she tease the tongue with her charm before giving it a final nip, before you lose yourself to her grasp. Such a venus!" he cried in exaggeration. If there was one thing that Alois thankfully didn't have it was that man's sense of show. Alois took a bite and smiled before nudging Lizzy to do the same. "What's it called?" asked Lizzy after humming to herself.

Sebastian smirked and responded, _"Chocolat noir et orange avec l' épices_, it's a Petite Four. We used to call it _Amalie_ at school." His tone didn't waver in the slightest and Ciel felt as though Sebastian was simply showing off for the diners. He smiled and looked at his chef, he didn't think it was possible for a pastry chef to be that clean, "Sebastian, you should demonstrate your skill sometime for us, I would like to watch how you work," commented Ciel with a grin. This had to irritate or unnerve Sebastian, yet nothing showed on his face, "Why?" asked Sebastian after a moment, he looked slightly puzzled, yet his cool façade was still in tact. Ciel sighed and sat back in his seat with his arms crossed, "Simple, I want to know how you can remain so clean while making pastries," he commented.

There was a murmur and Ciel knew he had Sebastian just where he wanted him, "Simple sir, I have two coats," he replied, with a smile. Ciel paused when he heard the chuckle through the room, "Quite a cute Patissier, clearly in this case the pastry is as handsome as the chef," whispered Elizabeth to Alois. The blonde chuckled and responded, "I told you he was cute." Elizabeth laughed which irritated Ciel, even his fiancée though Sebastian was a beauty. "If you will excuse me owner, I have to finish a Souffle for table 9," he said graciously before leaving the table. Vincent was smiling and looked over at his son, his brown eyes locked on his son's sapphire eyes. "It appears that you've hired yet another skilled chef," he commented. Ciel simply grind, Sebastian was playing that cooler than he had anticipated, obviously Sebastian was giving it his all. "Yes he is rather talented, oddly he called one day and faxed in his resume," commented the slate haired young man. He slipped his fingers around the wine glass, Vincent was holding his cards close, usually he could read his father. Yet tonight, Vincent wasn't letting anything slip.

"Oh?" Vincent asked as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the wine which William had selected for the evening. Ciel nodded and pressed, "It was odd really, I hadn't even officially posted an advertisement for the open position," he commented. Sky blue eyes locked onto Ciel's profile, he could feel Alois' gaze of warning to Ciel. He shrugged it off, the blond was always trying to stick his nose in places it didn't belong. "Perhaps it was fate," Rachel gushed as she attempted to defuse the tension that was growing between the two parties at the table. Ciel chuckled and looked at his mother with amusement, "Fate, or someone intervene," he commented, before glancing at his father accusingly.

Vincent looked at Ciel and sighed, "I didn't have anything to do with this, Tanaka, we are leaving. Dinner was nice, however it is clear we have outstayed our welcome," he stated before getting up with ease and assisting his wife out of her chair. Rachel slipped a loose brown hair behind her ear and looked at Ciel angrily, the pair had been fighting since Ciel had inherited the restaurant. He knew it was wrong to antagonize his father however, he simply couldn't stand by and listen to his old man tell him how to do things. Tanaka appeared and smiled brightly, he was wearing a black tail coat which was customary of a Phantomhive butler. His gray hair was slicked back, and he smiled warmly at his master. He had served them for years, Ciel could remember his afternoons following Tanaka and watching him work. That was a long time ago and from what he could tell not even Tanaka was pleased with his success.

"Alois, tell William his selection of wine was excellent for the evening and thank you for reminding Grell to suppress his tendencies," said Vincent as he slipped into his coat and looked at the young man. Aleister was out of his seat and wrapped his arms around Alois, "Don't take so long to call me next time," commented Aleister before he walked away following Vincent and Rachel. The truth was that Alois didn't have to work, he was rich as well, he simply enjoyed being a bartender. It was unusual that he was a fan mixing liquor, however Alois later learned that it was because of the attractive men he could meet over a glass. "Ciel, why were you so cruel to them? You know they love you," asked Elizabeth after a moment. Ciel turned to her and noticed a stray blond hair hanging off to the side of her face, it must have slipped out of her bun.

The young man sighed as he gently slipped the trendle behind her ear and placed his hand on her cheek, "I know they do, however I want to prove that I'm worthy of them, that I am just as good, if not better, at business as my father," he responded with a small smile. He didn't want to be second best, he wanted his workaholic of a father to see how clever he was at business and prove to him that he was worthy of the Phantomhive name. Ronald walked over and tapped Ciel on the shoulder, "Sir, sorry to interrupt but Grell is flirting with another customer," he stated. Ciel groaned and rubbed his temples before getting up and pressing a kiss to Elizabeth's cheek, "Duty calls," he whispered before leaving.

Sebastian took a moment to breathe, he felt as though he were going to drown in his own fear after that incident. Ciel was clearly out for blood, and he was thankful he had pulled himself together long enough to face the owner. "Special Order Number 2!" shouted Ronald as he looked at Sebastian. There was a pause and Claude asked, "What's the second?" Ronald chuckled and pointed to Sebastian, "Amalie, a number of guests heard about it and want to try it as well," he commented. Faustus blinked and looked at Ronald in confusion, Sebastian simply smiled and plated the small dark brown cake with a vibrant orange rose on the top in a fluted cup. "Amalie," he said smoothly as he pointed to the plated Petit Four and Ronald collected it. Claude's golden eyes were locked on the treat and then he looked at Sebastian. His eyes seemed to follow Sebastian's hands as he worked, a smile curved the head chef's lips before he was called away to attend to another order.

Sebastian hoped he would be able to come up for air, only to be bombarded with dessert orders. Which, made him happy, finally the Spice cake was leaving the kitchen, even if the Tranche cake was also still being ordered a little more often. At one point Sebastian had nearly run out of the small cakes and had to make more. Oddly the decisive eyes of Claude Faustus didn't leave him often, he caught the Head Chef watching him and blush a little. He was slightly embarrassed by the fact that he was being watched so closely. It had been a while since someone actually watched him work simply for enjoyment, there was something different in the head chef's eyes as he watched Sebastian. His golden eyes were usually cold and distant as he watched the others cook. Judgemental and always looking for a mistake to be made. Yet, with Sebastian they were slightly softer and there was something else, enjoyment. Something which he had seen in a very long time.

At college professors watched him to evaluate his skill and often complemented how effortless he made things look, yet none of them ever watched him with a smile of joy. Usually they were smiling smugly as they used Sebastian to throw something in a student's face. Students often glared at him or envied him, which caused an uncomfortable rift to occur between himself the students and the faculty. It was nerve wracking to be treated like a tutorial, rather than a student. He wanted nothing more than to make beautiful dishes and have people enjoy them. Sebastian sighed as he looked up at the clock, it was closing time and he had spent the entire evening finishing his dishes on autopilot. It wasn't something he was proud of, however, he couldn't fight it either.

"May I?" asked a familiar velvet like voice, there was a single small cake left resting in a fluted cup a hand rested beside it, he had black tipped fingernails and it was as white as the flour he had used to make the treat. Sebastian looked up to see Claude out of his jacket and once again in his tee shirt and jeans. He pulled up a stool and perched on it, Sebastian stared at the man and finally nodded, "Sure," he responded. It was only now that he realized the rest of the chefs were gone. "I'm keeping you here aren't I?" asked Sebastian after a moment as he looked around, he still had to clean his station. The rest of the kitchen was immaculate, and Claude looked the same as when he had first arrived. "Take your time, I'm in no rush," he commented as he got up and pulled a silver fork from the drain. It was unusual to see him using this instead of his golden one, he had grown so accustomed to seeing it that he had a hard time adjusting to the silver implement which was now between his fingers.

Sebastian nodded and proceeded to cleaning the counter of flour, "You did well in front of Ciel, I noticed he was attempting to rile you up," he stated as he took a bite. He hummed, unsure of what to say except, "Thank you, chef," he responded in the most professional tone possible. He walked over to the sink and finished cleaning his nozzles for the pastry bags. "I heard he wants to watch you make these treats with his family and Elizabeth, do you know when?" asked Claude after a moment. Sebastian hummed as he continued to wash his pastry edge and replied, "No, he didn't schedule it, he simply mentioned it." He continued to wash the blade and watched the batter which had crusted the edge slip down the drain. His red eyes settled on the small cup which was filled with his icing tips.

"It's wonderful, the cake, but spears is right, it is a little on the bitter side," commented Claude. Sebastian slowly turned around as he began to dry his edge and placed each tip on a towel. He could feel Claude's gaze again, he wondered why he was being stared at so often. "That was intentional, I thought it would be refreshing," he commented as he slipped the edge in his bag. He prayed Claude couldn't see through him, "I see, I suppose we have another item to add to the menu," he commented after a moment. He closed his eyes and exhaled tiredly, he was still shaken by that nightmare, he hadn't eaten that morning and didn't feel hungry again. "Hey second-rate, what's wrong?" asked Claude gruffly.

Sebastian hissed at being called a second-rate and replied, "It's nothing, I'm fine." He slipped each of the caps into their white case and closed the lid before turning to him, "I'll let you know when Ciel wants to see my baking so the kitchen can be ready for it," he responded. He was about to walk away when Claude snatched his wrist. "You've been acting out of it for a while now Michaelis," he stated sternly. Sebastian was silent and looked at him, "Since you came in something has been off, if there's something I need to know you better tell me now, before the owner finds out," he stated. Claude's gold eyes pierced him like knives, calling him out and Sebastian sighed, "It's nothing, I just couldn't sleep last night," he replied before jerking away and walking over to grab his bicycle.

Claude leaned in the doorway and watched as Sebastian vanished into the night, "I'm not blind Michaelis, I know something is haunting you," he whispered. There was a tap behind him and he heard a familiar hum, "So you like the little pastry chef too, ne?" Claude sighed and leaned his head on the doorway, "What do you want Grell?" he asked with irritation. A hand with long red tipped nails appeared on his chest and Claude groaned, he had to deal with Alois earlier he wasn't interested in dealing with Grell as well. He was overwhelmed by the smell of Chanel Number Nine, "Oh come on Claude, you like him," commented the transvestite. Golden eyes closed as he remembered the expression on Sebastian's face in his office. He looked absolutely terrified of him, "Just concerned, he's one of us now, and it's my job to protect him," stated Claude firmly as he shrugged Grell's arms off. He turned around to see the redhead in a bright red dress with pumps on. "Oh come on, he's absolutely delicious," he commented, "If you don't go after him, I will."

Claude's eyes narrowed as he roughly grabbed the lapels of Grell's red trench and slammed him against the doorway, "If you dare to touch him, I will tear you limb from limb and feed you to my tarantula," he hissed. His voice was cold and intense as he whispered the treat to Grell. "Nod if you understand," said Claude as he pulled back and smiled darkly. Grell's green eyes were wide with shock, "I was joking Faustus," he stammered. He held his hands up as Claude slowly released the redhead's lapels causing him to fall to the floor. "He's been through enough and I'm concerned, I don't need you to fuck him up like you did Angela," he hissed. He could remember how the woman had gone on a tirade and attempted to kill Ciel that night after Grell had convinced her that he was the source of her pain. It was a known fact that Angela, Rachel's sister, couldn't have children and Grell made her believe that Ciel was the reason she was miserable.

Grell huffed and crossed his arms before getting off the floor, "Oh please, that's no way to treat a lady," he commented before storming out. Claude grit his teeth and hissed, "You aren't a woman, you're a death god. You're touch brings pain and suffering, don't even compare yourself to something as beautiful as a woman," he commented. Angela had nearly committed suicide that day after she had come to her senses. "You've changed Claude, you used to not care and now you're clinging to that Pastry Chef," commented Grell before he left the kitchen. Claude ran his hands through his hair in frustration before taking his glasses off and cleaning them. "Perhaps I am," he whispered, "Perhaps I am changing."

A pair of sapphire blue eyes gazed out the window of a black town car, "So that's what's going on," commented the amused owner. He had seen everything which had occurred and he decided that now was the time to play a little game. He pulled out his blackberry and typed a message to Alois, "Perhaps we should see who will fall first, I finally have a weakness Faustus," he whispered as he read over the text. "Now I'm going to strangle you with it, and remind you who is in charge," he stated. He wasn't about to be treated like that by his staff, he looked like a fool at dinner, as well as earlier that day when Claude had stormed into his office and demanded an explanation as to why Angela was invited. He didn't need to justify himself to his staff, he was the owner and they were his employees, nothing else. "This will be fun," he commented after watching the message leave his phone.

_Ciel Phantomehive:_

_Alois, I think we should have a little game. You have a crush on Claude and I want to punish the pastry chef for embarrassing me tonight. Who ever can get the other to fall first wins a case of tequila. Interested?_

* * *

_I also want to thank Manake and Colleen, you guys were helpful with this chapter and thanks for serving as a sound board. _


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm thrilled that you guys are interested in reading this piece, honestly! Feel free to review and the playlist is/will be (depending on when you read this chapter) posted to my profile very soon. The YouTube playlist contains the pieces which inspired me to write this piece, they are all labeled. Some scenes use multiple pieces so read the notes carefully. _

_I would love to thank the following people for adding this piece to their Alerts Subscription: Blackkitten13, Ringo Juisu_

_For adding this piece to their favorites: Vafreek, Blackkitten13_

_For adding me to their favorite author's list: Varfeek_

_promocat: Yeah, Ciel's a little evil in his, I honestly couldn't resist. He's not the nicest in the Manga either when you really sit down and think about it._

_Ringo Juisu: Wow! I love long reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying, I love pastries and to be honest have a serious sweet tooth. Anyway, I'm glad you enjoy the adjustments to characters in this version and find the technical end to be refreshing, as well as the use of french terms. Feel free to correct me when I make a mistake. (LOL I know the PM was longer, I'm paraphrasing.) _

_Varfreek: I'm glad that you like the fact that Sebastian has an interesting past as well, something to spice things up. I'm glad you are enjoying my little story and I plan to continue it until the end. _

_Thank you to all of you who have been reading and weren't mentioned above. You guys are amazing and I hope you enjoy the complicatons to come._

_ Now on with the Chapter! _

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**Chapter 6: Dessert 4: _Pats de Nonne_**

Alois groaned as he slowly sat up in bed and looked at his partner from the night before, another nameless man who wasn't that great of a lay. Light poured through the open window as he stretched and popped his back. That evening he hooked up with a handsome gentleman who had just divorced his wife and wanted a little fun. He sighed as he slipped out of bed and picked up his mobile. He ran a hand through his messy blond hair as he turned it on and took a look at the text. He hummed before looking at the man who was laying face down on his bed, snoring like a wood chipper. Alois had always joked about getting Claude to screw him, he didn't think Ciel would encourage it. The thing which bothered him though was the fact that Alois wanted to hurt Sebastian. It honestly didn't feel right, it was Sebastian's whimsical comment which made a number of people chuckle and had flooded Twitter. He expected Ciel to be busier than ever tonight because of it, a number of the guests were pleased to see a whimsical chef who enjoyed his craft.

Alois sighed as he got out of bed and walked over to his bathroom, Claude would never agree to sleeping with him, he knew that. Yet, Ciel wanted him to, there had to be something else to it, Ciel didn't simply play games without knowing even card. That was how he was, he wasn't a player he was the master of the game and Alois had to decide if this was really worth it. If he could get Claude to fall into his arms, he would get a case of tequila and the handsome Head Chef himself. He ran a comb through his hair and returned to his bedroom, either way he had to get that man out of his bed, "Rise and shine," said Alois seductively as he leaned in the doorway with nothing on. Alois' lay woke up and looked at him, "Get out, I have to work," said Alois nastily. He had put on an angelic act the night before so he had a feeling that the gentleman in his bed was going to be confused. Sure enough he was and stammered, "What?" Alois sighed as he threw the man's pants at him and commented, "Sorry buddy, but you just weren't good enough," he stated before wrapping himself in a bright red silk Yukata and disappearing from the room.

He smiled as he heard the man curse at him and leave in a hurry. He picked up his mobile again and typed his reply to an ever so eager Ciel. "Okay then, I'll play. If that means I can get closer to you," he commented.

_Alois Trancy:_

_Sounds like a plan._

He tapped the phone to his chin after hitting send. Perhaps he could get this to work in his favor. Even if it was just another game for Ciel, this could be a way for him to express what he had been thinking.

~~xXx~~

The sun was out again as Sebastian slowly walked through the Smithfield market in Central London. He enjoyed roaming around these markets, each of them had a wonderful selection of the freshest breads, cheeses, vegetables and meats. The only thing was you have to know both how to bargain and what you were looking at. He was greeted by the smell of fresh bread and the color of the produce, "Something light," he commented as he slowly wandered through the colorful streets, looking at each stand. "This is heaven," he breathed happily as he walked down the street and disappeared into the bustle of young men and women purchasing their goods.

In truth he simply wanted to run away, the night before Claude had gotten too close. He wasn't interested in the Head Chef knowing more about him, it made him nervous. He knew he was buried in debt and had a tainted background, he didn't want Claude to know. He could be fired by the petty owner for simply having the wrong background. Regardless of his qualifications. It was bad enough Ciel seemed displeased that night at dinner, it was clear that he didn't expect Sebastian to be prepared for just about anything. The ironic part was he failed to noticed it wasn't Sebastian's coat. All of Sebastian's chef's jackets had his name embroidered on them, this one it was missing. He had borrowed a blank from Claude, it was slightly too large, and he had to roll up the sleeves. Claude was much larger than he was, yet they managed to get it to work. He had no idea how broad the head chef's shoulders were until he tried on the coat. It practically swam on him, yet Ciel didn't noticed this. He hummed as he remembered how those sapphire eyes narrowed when he asked Sebastian why he wasn't covered in flour. They honestly looked irritated that his chef was presentable. "Such a difficult person," he mumbled as he continued to look around.

The murmur of individuals as he walked through the restaurant was still in his head. All of them admiring both his looks and skills. That night they had sold more dessert than even the head waiter could handle. Ronald was running to and fro with a tray of sweets and making quite a bit in tips. "It's rather bitter," Claude's voice was still buzzing, and he paused. Sebastian knew they were bitter, it was intentional, or at least that's what he thought. He sighed and shook his head, until the scent of rosemary and thyme bread caught him. His feet came to a halt outside of the stall and he quickly picked up a piece, "How much?" he asked quickly as he looked over the bread.

~~xXx~~

Claude sighed and looked at his watch, the noise of people bargaining and arguing over the quality of the produce echoed in his ears. In all honesty he wanted to spend his time admiring succulent pieces of beef, golden brown loaves of bread and succulent tomatoes just ripe enough to cook with. "Where is he?" he groaned as he looked around for the blond who had called him out that morning. He couldn't believe that he was assisting Alois in shopping, it honestly amazed him that he would get a phone call so early asking for assistance. "Claude!" cried a familiar voice which made the Head Chef jump, as always he was loud. A pair of scrawny arms wrapped around him, "Ah, it's so good to see you!" he squealed with glee. Claude rolled his eyes as he wrenched Alois away from him.

"What's this dire need to go shopping with me?" he asked sternly, he didn't need Alois slowing him down. He wanted to get to admiring produce and select the best before it was gone. It was no secret this market was here, and chefs from every restaurant in the area, as well as the locals, used it. "Wow, something smells delicious!" chimed Alois before he bounded off. For once he was in jeans and a tee with a light jacket, he wasn't wearing the tight shorts or boots. At least today Claude could be seen with him and didn't look like he had an escort hanging off of him, "Perhaps I will survive this," he muttered as he went after Alois. He was standing by a stand which sold warm scones, "Oh I want the chocolate one!" he gushed. Claude sighed, of course he wanted the sweetest one available. Alois was as bad as Ciel in this aspect, he had a serious sweet tooth and was always at risk for cavities. He honestly thought that the pair consumed more sugar than Sebastian cooked with in an evening. Sebastian could probably make a scone which wasn't as sweet, Claude paused when he realized he was thinking about the burgundy eyed, raven haired chef. He shook his head and looked down at Alois who was handing the baker a few pence.

Claude crossed his arms and hummed only to catch a familiar profile, a mess of black hair, pale skin, high cheekbones, and burgundy red eyes. His lips quirked up as he watched Sebastian look over the bread and argue a price. He was impressed that he wasn't slipping into french for this. The baker was animated as he attempted to make his case, only for Sebastian to do a rapid calculation in his head, and point out he was over priced when both time and materials as well as fuel were added in. The baker gaped at the Pậtissier and finally let him have the bread for the price he argued, regrettably. Claude chuckled as he watched Sebastian hand him the money and move on. "Claude, what are you looking at?" asked Alois curiously as he tugged on Claude's shirt. He was so amused by Sebastian's actions, he had forgotten about Alois, which impressed him. It was nearly impossible to forget about the boisterous blond beside him.

Claude wanted to know more about Sebastian, even if the man wouldn't open up to him, he paused and hummed. If he followed Sebastian he would learn not only his particular taste but also his personality. "I was," he paused and chuckled, "Admiring a rather beautiful blackbird." Cerulean eyes looked up at the Head Chef and narrowed before shrugging and prancing off, thankfully it was in the same direction Sebastian had gone. It was as though he were playing a real life game of "Where's Waldo." The thrill and excitement drove the chef to look and see where the bird had flown. "Oh look Claude, what are those?" he asked as he pointed. Claude followed his finger and looked at the stand, there was an assortment of smoked meats as well as sausages. Claude followed the blond as he asked the butcher about each item. "It's chicken sausage," responded the butcher. The blonde stared at him as though he were an alien. "Huh?" asked the blond in confusion as he looked at him, "Chicken."

Alois looked at Claude and asked, "They make sausages out of chickens?" The head chef groaned and rubbed his forehead with his fingers, "Yes, they can use chicken to make sausages, they also use seafood and turkey," he remarked. Alois' eyes widened with wonder as he pointed at the pail white links. It was apparent his mind was blown and he remembered he was talking to someone who didn't look at what he was eating, he just stuck it in his mouth to see if it tasted good. "How?" he asked after a moment and Claude looked at him. He started to wonder if he actually worked in a 4 star french restaurant. "Like they make normal sausage," he responded. Alois looked at the sausage and hummed, Claude grit his teeth, he honestly looked like he was going to kill Alois. "Does it taste good?" he asked after a moment.

Claude stared at him as though he were an alien from another planet, "I don't mind it, it's really up to the person eating it," he commented. Suddenly he was aching for Sebastian to come and save him from the blond bimbo. He hummed again and crossed his arms as he tapped his chin with his index finger, Claude began to get impatient and mutter, "Oh for the love of, I want 8 links of the Chicken Sausage, wrapped in paper and put on ice," he called. The butcher nodded and was quick to carry out Claude's order. "You know what, it's too weird, I'll stick with sausage from pigs," he commented before walking away. Claude turned red with frustration and glared at the obnoxious blond before he skipped off, "Boyfriend?" asked the butcher as he handed Claude the package, there was a hint of pity in his voice as he asked. Claude sighed and pulled his wallet to pay the man, obviously he was eating chicken sausage for the next few days, "No, thankfully," he stated as he handed the man a few folded bills and placed the package with an ice pack in his bag.

He searched the crowded street for where Alois had run to, "Claude, Claude, look!" he cried and waved his arms as though he were flagging down a ship. Claude tilted his head to the side as he imagined the amount of chaos which would surround the blond as he directed ships in the harbor and sent signals. There wouldn't be a single vessel afloat once he was finished, "Claude, it's so cute!" he cried. Claude trudge along, he noticed how Alois' cerulean eyes were glowing with curiosity, and he groaned. Fearing this would be like the chicken sausage, which he hadn't planned on buying. He could smell the grease and his stomach churned, he honestly didn't want to eat something greasy. He stopped before a stand of Elephant ears and looked at them, he had a feeling Sebastian's would never be that greasy. "They look wonderful!" he chirped, "1 Please!" Claude blanched and looked away, his stomach was doing backflips looking at it.

He was about to comment when he caught a glimpse of that beautifully tousled hair. "I would like A carton of strawberries please," he heard that beautiful voice say behind him. He sighed as he watched long fingers examine each one and he nodded, "I'll take them, and throw in some blackberries as well," he stated as he pointed to the lush dark blue fruit. Claude couldn't tear his eyes away from the berries, he hummed after remembering how gentle he was with the fruit when he had first arrived and made the Mille Feuille. Part of him began to wonder what the chef intended to do with the succulent fruit, what sort of divine treats he was planning on making with them. He felt a sharp pain in his backside, and he turned around to see Alois grinning shamelessly, he had just been pinched in the ass by the bartender. "Ouch, what the hell was that for?" asked Claude as he rubbed the sore spot without thinking. Golden eyes probed the flirtatious blond's face for an answer. "Well I called your name like five times, and you didn't respond!" he stated as he crossed his arms.

"I mean honestly do you have ADD or something, that's not good for a chef, you'll get burnt," stated Alois as he tapped his toe. Claude noticed Sebastian move out of the corner of his eye, and looked up, "I mean seriously it's annoying, you can't possibly be looking at another black bird," he stated. Claude was resisting the urge of running up to Sebastian and begging for assistance, this was far more irritating than he imagined. His eyes lit up as he watched Sebastian turn down a familiar little ally to a wine distributor, "I was thinking about what wine to pair with the mean I had planned," he replied smoothly. He was going into that shop to see what Sebastian would pick. He couldn't lose him now, not when he was learning so much about him. Alois looked at him and grinned, "Oh, why didn't you say so! You'll cook for me?" he asked with large puppy dog eyes. Claude felt a pair of slender arms wrap around his arm as he walked, "Yes," said Claude quickly. Anything to get closer to the mysterious chef.

They turned down the alley to the familiar wine shop he knew and he opened the door, "Oh wow, what a nice place!" chirped the blond before he began to walk down the rows of bottles. It was one of the first shops Claude had been to when he first came back to England after spending some time in Paris, it was still one of his favorites. They had a beautiful selection of rare wines, all of which Spears knew by heart. He walked down the length of the store and noticed Sebastian holding two bottles in his hands, he would recognize them a mile away. One of them was his personal favorites, a dry white wine from New York called Simi and the other was a bottle of Rozay with a French label. He paused and looked at them, he wanted to know which Sebastian would choose. He returned the Rozay to the shelf and called over the resident Sommelier. "I'm looking for something a little nutty and not as sweet," he commented.

The Sommelier looked at both bottles and asked, "Drinking or cooking?" Sebastian shifted on his feet and replied without hesitation, "Cooking." Claude's eyes couldn't leave the pair as they chatted about the body of both and the Sommelier stated, "That bottle of Simi isn't as good, go with the one from 2003, it's a better year and slightly more mature." Sebastian handed the bottle to the rather short Sommelier and nodded as he followed. "I'll take the Simi then," he replied politely. Claude was dancing on the inside, the man was willing to use the wine he preferred to cook. "Claude! I want to know the difference between these," said Alois as he sauntered over. Sebastian was at the counter handing him a few bills and disappeared. He groaned in frustration and looked at Alois, he had to ditch him somehow. Internally he was screaming for Sebastian to come back and save him.

~~xXx~~

After arguing with Alois for thirty minutes on wine, the blond bought both bottles, ignoring Claude's suggestions. "Wine should be enjoyed not used to drown yourself," commented Claude. Alois looked at him as though he had several heads, "I'm not drowning myself," he replied and crossed his arms as he carried the bag with wine in it. Claude sighed and rolled his eyes, "Says the one who wanted to pour tequila on his Cheerios," he muttered. Alois jumped and looked at him wide eyed, he looked as though Claude had just told him the secret of making gold from other metals, "I totally forgot about that! I so want to try that," he cried. The head chef groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he mentally kicked himself to reminding the blond. They walked down the street, and Alois' phone rang, Claude crossed his fingers that he would finally get rid of the blond.

"What do you mean that they didn't have it?" he asked with an irritated tone. Alois was the Head Bartender which, meant he was in trouble if the right liquors weren't in the case. "No I said a case of Bombay Sapphire, completely different," he commented and groaned. The only thing which Alois both seemed to care about and know was bartending, it honestly amused him how the blond was able to run the bar with ease and an air or authority. "Alright, I'll come down, yeah tell Soma I'm coming. No it's not his fault, it's those idiots running the place," he grumbled before hanging up and looking at Claude with a pout. "I have to go to work," he said with sad eyes. Claude was internally cheering fate was finally on his side. "Pity," said Claude with little emotion as he contained his joy. Alois sighed and looked at him, "I'll see you around, Claudy-Bear," he said before blowing him a kiss and vanishing.

Claude slumped against a wall and sighed with relief, the storm had finally looked at his bags and decided it wouldn't hurt to look around just a little longer. He continued to wander until he saw a familiar slender figure smiling, he was carrying a paper bag and his red eyes seemed to dance. As Claude got closer he was overwhelmed by the smell of maple sugar, butter and vanilla. It was a familiar smell that he simply couldn't place. Sebastian's lips were curved in a small smile as he watched a young woman work, on wrapping an order. Before Claude realized it he was standing beside Sebastian and he finally knew what had amused his patissier. Resting on a silver tray lined with parchment were small swirled pastries. Golden eyes slowly widened as he looked at them, they were simple, a piece of puff pastry coiled with a maple sugar filling with a touch of cinnamon. A peasant dish, Sebastian had made pastries far more elegant and complex. Yet he was looking at these small round pastries as though they were the greatest thing he had ever tasted.

The Head Chef stared at Sebastian in confusion, "What are they?" he asked after a moment, he couldn't find a tag and began to wonder if there was some secret to them that only a Patissier would know. The slender pastry chef jumped and glanced over at Claude. A look of shock appeared on his face, naturally he didn't think Claude used the same market or hadn't expected to see him there. "The pastries, I don't recognize them," said Claude after a moment as he glanced back down at the tray. The raven haired chef relaxed a little and responded, "_Pets de Nonne_," he chuckled after saying it. Claude was even more confused at the response, he couldn't understand why Sebastian was laughing. "What's so funny?" the Head Chef asked after a moment as he attempted to put some meaning to the words. He was at a total loss and looked over at the chuckling chef.

Sebastian hummed with delight as he shook his head and looked at the baker, "_Duex Pets de Nonne, __s'il vous__ plait_," he said swiftly. A young man looked up from the register as the woman glanced at him in utter confusion. "I've got this," said the man as he walked over and picked up the two pastries and wrapped them in paper, "Here you are," he said as he handed them to Sebastian. The young pastry chef handed the man a few pounds, and the baker looked at him in confusion, "Sir, you've given me too much," he commented. Sebastian shook his head and replied, "That is for a child looking for something sweet." There was a nostalgic smile on his face and the man smiled, "I see, I'll set this aside and slip it in once he has come," responded the baker with a smile. The woman looked even more confused than before, Claude could tell there was something unspoken between the owner and Sebastian, a mutual understanding which he wanted to know about.

"Thank you for your patronage," said the owner with a nod and Sebastian held out one of the round pastries to Claude. The Head Chef looked at him hesitantly, he had never heard of the dish, he didn't even understand what the name meant and yet he was going to eat it. "Try it, it's really good," said Sebastian with a smile as he folded back a corner of the parchment and took a bite. His lips wrapped around the pastry, and he purred with joy as he tasted it. A faint blush covered his cheeks as he closed his eyes and savored the sweet treat.

The Head Chef slowly took a bite and tasted the buttery flaky crust, which seemed to fall apart in his mouth. It wasn't nearly as good as Sebastian's rough pastry that he had made in haste to complete the _Mille Feuille_. However, it was fairly close, the maple played on his tongue and surprisingly it wasn't too sweet, it was nutty and had a nip of cinnamon on the end. He looked up to see Sebastian watching him intently, it was clear he was trying to see if Claude liked it. The Head Chef licked his thumb and nodded in approval, "Very tasty," he hummed as he licked the sugar off of his thumb.

"_Pets de Nonne_ was a traditional French treat that was created in Paris, young children would buy it on the streets or in bakeries with coin. Originally they were made with a type of puff pastry which was used in cream puffs and was often fried, called _Choux Puff_," Sebastian explained. Claude looked at the pastry in confusion, it wasn't heavy enough for that, "However, when the French brought it to Canada the recipe was altered. Bakers found it a hassle to make puff pastry just for the treat, so it was changed to pastry scraps," he explained. There was a glint of joy in his eyes as he spoke of the small wheel in his hand.

Claude stared at the man as he spoke, his passion for pastries exceeded most chef's for their craft. There was something romantic about watching the young man speak of the pastry in his hands. Something which Claude himself had forgotten, the love of the craft. To make food which served a purpose and warmed people. "Is it normal for French people to leave extra money for a child?" asked Claude after a moment. He had lived in Paris for a long time and had never seen anyone tell a baker to give a treat to a child and pay them for it in advance. Burgundy orbs shifted from their dancing form to one of sadness and pain. His smile vanished from his lips as he looked at the pastry in his hand, "Claude do you know what makes a pastry, or any dish, special?" he asked after a moment.

The question itself startled Claude, no one had ever asked him that, he had never actually thought about what it meant to be a chef. It seemed far too philosophical for his taste, and yet here Sebastian was asking the very question he dreaded. "I've never given that aspect much thought," he replied honestly. Sebastian scoffed and shook his head, his eyes were filled with that sadness he had seen when _Amalie_ wasn't doing well. He hummed as he looked at the treat, it was as though he were creating a recipe for another treat while gazing at it.

"Every pastry is a memory, crafted by a chef to inspire new ones when enjoyed. They bring sweetness to the bitter days and the pain that comes with them, and they make memories better. As a chef I can only hope that someone out there finds happiness when they eat my pastries," he said after a moment. He paused and looked at Claude, "It's not the food which is important, but the memories crafted as people eat the food, that's what is important. We like to think it's our skill and palate which makes us special," he said slowly, and Claude felt as though he were finally looking into this man's soul. A place of loneliness, pain and sadness. He felt his heart wrench in his chest as Sebastian spoke, "However, in the end a pastry is just a pastry, meaningless without the chef's memories and those which people craft as they eat them," he finished.

Sebastian's sad smile was replaced with a warm one, it was beautiful, "When I was six, my mother died and we left for Paris from London. My father was an investment broker at the time," said Sebastian after a moment. Claude froze, he had an eerie feeling about what Sebastian was about to tell him. He hadn't expected the chef to tell him, he was so guarded that it was difficult to understand why he was doing this. "My father abandoned me at an orphanage outside of Paris when I was 9," he continued. Claude froze, he knew Sebastian had it rough but to be abandoned by his own father, was not something he expected. "They were strict at the orphanage and often told us that the devil would take our souls if we weren't good. There was one garden we weren't allowed in, it was Father Francis' private garden," said Sebastian slowly.

"We were all curious as to what he grew in it, naturally because it was forbidden many of us tried to get in, only for the nuns to catch us and punish us," he commented with a chuckle, "We would get them so angry." The sound of Sebastian's laughter was just as sweet as the sugar he used to bake with. Heart warming and a sound which made Claude smile. He could imagine a young raven haired boy causing mischief and pestering the nuns. "Anyway, I managed to sneak over the large brick wall and take a look. Unforchantly Father Francis spotted me," he said slowly. The joy was gone from his voice as he spoke. It was slightly painful, he could tell that what followed wasn't as happy. "He managed to catch me," there was a pause, Sebastian shuddered, and Claude could tell this wasn't a friendly memory. It looked as though Sebastian were editing something out, "He punished me," he said slowly. He looked like a small child, afraid of being hurt again, which made Claude wonder just what the man's punishment was.

"That evening, I managed to sneak out, I knew I would be punished by the nun's later, but I didn't care," he said slowly as he looked at the pastry in his hand. Claude stared at Sebastian only to realize that this man had been tortured for years of his life. That Ciel was mild compared to everything else he had been through. "It was closing time, and the bakery in town, which had chased us away with a broom, was throwing out day old pastries," he said with a warm smile, "the baker saw me and took pity on me. Father Francis' punishment was obvious to the baker and the man who we all feared would beat us with the rolling pin, gave me a treat," he said after a moment. Burgundy eyes were warm and filled with a kindness, "He was kind to me, when all others weren't. My father had brought me treats before, but that pastry was the best I had ever tasted," he whispered. Claude froze when he realized that this was why Sebastian was a Pậtissier. He slowly looked up at the Head Chef, "He offered me a chance to learn how to make pastries, to escape. I gladly accepted it," he finished.

Claude had a feeling that this wasn't all of the story, however he wasn't about to press for more. "Is he the one who taught you how to bake?" asked Claude after a moment, he wondered what the name of the Pậtissier was and if the owner was still around. "Yes, he taught me how to make these," he commented as he held of the pastry. Sebastian's smile came back again, it was apparent he respected his first teacher. Not many chefs respected their first of many teachers and masters which they learned from. Many were far too arrogant, himself included, to give them credit where it belonged. Yet there was something which was still bugging him, what the pastry's name meant, "What does it mean, the name of the pastry," asked Claude finally.

He was hoping Sebastian's tale would give something away, Sebastian simply chuckled and looked at him with a smirk of glee. "_Pets de Nonne_ is a rather nasty name for such a wonderful pastry," he began after finishing the small wheel and dropping the paper in a nearby rubbish bin. "It means Nun's sighs, or as children say, Nun's farts," he responded with a giggle. Claude stared wide eyed at the chef before him, he looked at the pastry and commented, "You can't be serious." Sebastian hummed as he cradled the bag in his arm and replied, "I am, that's what it means. If you don't believe me, look it up," he commented with a teasing grin.

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_Thank you Manake and Collene once again for reading and helping me out, I know I'm a bit zanny but you guys keep me sane. Thanks guys! 3_


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: I had to break this chapter into two parts, I couldn't resist a certain long scene. I felt I waited long enough for it to come... _

_Thank you to the following people for adding this piece to your Alert Subscription: elleyeah, Syao Blossoms, and AnneteRuby._

_For adding this piece to their List of Favorites: Both AnneteRuby and ellenyeah_

_For adding me and following me as an author: ellenyeah. _

_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and PMs! You guys spoil me!_

_Grelliam3: I will continue this story, I'm glad you are enjoying and I hope you continue to fall in love with the world of pastries and those who create them. _

_Calli: I'm glad that you are eagerly waiting for my updates on this piece. I happen to see Claude differently than most, I don't like how they portrayed him in the series, he had so much potential and then they blew it out of the water. Thank you for reading ^^. It's always nice to open my email and see all the notes. It makes my day just a little sweeter. _

_Promocat: Pasties are hard. I'm glad that you are learning a great deal._

_Vafreek: I'm glad that you are open to Claude and Sebastian with this story. I've always struggled with Alois, so forgive me if he isn't spot on all the time. I'm glad that you are intrigued and desire to continue reading. _

_Ringo Juisu: Thank you for your review! I apologize for the typo, and by the time you go to look at it, it will be fixed. Thanks for pointing it out. I'm glad you are learning a great deal about pastry, its fascinating and is almost like a character of its own. I wanted to do something cute and a little awkward, especially the admiring from afar, or border line stalking. _

_AnneteRuby: So many questions, which will be answered as the tale unfolds. I'm glad you found my story and have hungered for the treats. It makes me feel rather accomplished. Don't worry all the characters from Seasons I and II will appear. It's all a matter as what and when._

_Thank you to all of those you who have been reading! If I didn't have so many readers I wouldn't continue. _

_Wow long thank you section… _

_On with the Chapter! ~_

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**Chapter 7: Dessert 4: The Whimsical **_**Citron**_**: Part 1**

After a little getting used to how the kitchen functioned Sebastian had mastered navigating the turbulent waters of the fiery kitchen. Claude was still hard on him and demanded perfection, which was to be expected from the head chef who was busier than ever attempted to fulfill the demands of the floor. Things went smoothly as the restaurant slowly grew in popularity once again, not only for the clean flavors of Claude, but also the creativity of the young pastry chef who was currently considered one of the best. There was one thing which was slowly eating away at Sebastian, he had told Claude parts of his childhood, without thinking he opened up. It frightened him, he had run from anyone who was interested in helping him before, yet now he was opening up to the one man who could destroy him.

He slowly walked into the kitchen and found a note sitting on his station, it was written on a sticky, and he stared, "See Soma," read Sebastian as he plucked the note off the clean surface and did as the note stated. Sebastian hummed as he remembered the purple haired Hindu he had met the first day, in truth the front of the house didn't interact often with the back, he usually only worked with William and a few select waiters, mostly Ronald. He slowly walked to the front of the house, it was radically different empty, it seemed far larger and more open when the diners weren't there. He hummed as he continued to the front desk, "Hello?" he asked curiously. "Hold on a minute," called a familiar voice.

The same young man stumbled out of the back with a headset on and a tablet in his hands, "Of course, well we have seen a jump in profit, I'm sure Claude can think of something," said the Indian quickly. His purple hair was held in place with an ornate comb, his dark skin contrasted the vibrant red and blue traditional clothing he was wearing. Sebastian stared at the young man who was wearing long white pants, sandals and wore several gold pieces. "Yes Ciel, well I'm certain we will be able to do it," he said with a note of confidence. He wrote something on the tablet with the stylus and took the earpiece out. His hazel eyes lifted from the screen, and he smiled, "Ah Sebastian, it's a pleasure to see you again, I apologize for not coming into the back of the house as often," he commented with a smile, "they keep me chained to this desk."

He chuckled at his own little joke and looked at him, "Well Ciel stated that he was going to have a few chefs cater to luncheon at a gallery opening this afternoon," he said after a moment. Sebastian stared at the Soma and began to wonder if Ciel was even in his right mind. Events took months to prep, "We can only spare you and Claude, we will be leaving Canterbury in charge," Soma continued as Sebastian stared at him blankly. "What?" asked Sebastian in a panic, "Is he insane? We don't even have the details!" Soma looked at the chef and sighed, it was clear he had grown accustomed to Ciel's whims.

He paused and looked over his shoulder, his jaw nearly hit the floor, standing in a black three-piece with his jacket over his shoulder. The gray vest hugged Claude's muscular torso and accentuated the firm lines of his chest, it was still buttoned and clung to him like a second skin. He gaped at the silk shirt which the man was wearing, it was loose around the shoulders, and the white gave him an heir of authority. The collar of his white dress shirt was unfastened showing off his powerful white chest. The black tie he had worn was in his hands as he stuffed it in his pocket. Even the man's pants were perfect, the tailor had clearly had a field day with this man. A golden pocket watch hung from his vest pocket, and his glasses glinted in the light, he honestly looked like he had walked out of a magazine. There was a white handkerchief peeking out of his pocket, the black Oxfords he wore had been shined to perfection, even a drill sergeant would stare at them. He slipped a hand through his violet hair and glanced at Soma, Agni was walking behind him, in a sleek charcoal gray suit, his impact was damped by the powerful aura of Claude. "Ah good you're back," said Soma with a smile. Claude nodded, even his stride screamed to have him prowl on the catwalk. Sebastian could only imagine Claude's tailors joy when he fitted the man for the suit. "Yeah, I still don't understand why Ciel sent me, I have nothing to do with the front of the house," Claude commented.

Sebastian hummed and looked at him, he started to wonder if Claude was actually that dense. Between his looks and aura, Ciel would have to be a moron not to send him. "How did it go? Did they give you any idea of what they wanted?" asked Soma. Sebastian felt very confused and began to wonder just what Claude had been up to. He was dressed to the nines and looked as though he were actually the owner of _Ciel_. The Head Chef hummed, "For the gallery opening they want us to preview it and craft dishes inspired by the show," he replied and looked at Sebastian. He paused and asked, "You just found out Ciel had farmed us out?" Sebastian nodded slowly, Claude looked as though he had been roped into a circus, unwillingly.

He sighed and crossed his arms, "Alright, we have access to the show in advance, the building fortunately has a kitchen, however oven space is limited," he commented, his golden eyes were closed as he started to walk through the plans in his head. Sebastian was impressed, he would have had to write this all down on a sheet to remember it. "There is plenty of counter space for two, they hired waiters for the lunch, however Grell will be functioning as the Head Waiter of the event, rather than Ronald. Knox is needed here to prepare for the evening," he remarked. Clearly he had everything planned, not a detail went unnoted, "Produce has been delivered to the location as well as assorted tools, all we need to do is look at the show," he commented.

"Agni will you be with them?" asked Soma curiously, Sebastian didn't recognize the man and began to wonder what their relationship to one another was. "Regrettably, however I will be back for dinner," he replied as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind the man's ear. Soma nodded, and Sebastian looked away, something told him he had just witnessed something far too intimate. "Alright, let's take a walk to where we will be working this afternoon," said Claude after a moment. He seemed calm and collected, Sebastian hadn't changed into his sauté pants and coat. He was running late that morning and had thrown on a pair of black jeans, a tee-shirt and a light jacket. Standing beside Claude was slightly intimidating, he looked like a model and Sebastian felt as though he were an extra.

With his bag in hand he followed Claude down the street, "What kind of event is this?" asked Sebastian after a moment. He walked quickly to keep up with Claude's long an powerful strides, "The premier of a dance troupe, choreographer, and visual artist," he replied simply. He felt even more confused than before, he had catered events prior to this in Paris, yet the combination wasn't one he imagined were possible. On top of the fact that Ciel didn't seem like someone who was interested in art. "The owner decided this?" asked Sebastian hesitantly, Claude adjusted his glasses and gave a firm nod. "With Vincent and Chamber's push, he did," he stated as he turned the corner and began down the next block. A pair of women stopped and stared at them, he had a feeling it was because of Claude. Sebastian chuckled after realizing that Ciel had been pushed into this by his own father and Chambers.

"Claude, why did Aleister Chamber push this? I thought the Phantomhive's weren't related to him," said Sebastian after a moment. He had done a little reading and learned that Ciel and his family were large in finance, specifically in technology and toys, Chamber was in medicine and law which was at the other end of the spectrum. "Alois' uncle," said Claude after a moment, his tone was still and very un-amused. "Alois' parents died when he was a child, later his brother was killed in a fire. Chamber met him after Earl Trancy died, he was adopted by the late earl," explained Claude. That seemed to explain a great deal of his general behavior, he seemed a little too carefree to be a simple employee. They stopped outside a large building with a banner hanging beside the door. _Whimsy_, was the name of the exhibit, Sebastian stared at the banner in confusion, it was a simple white banner with black print. Claude opened the door and slipped into the cool space, "Come on Michaelis, they are willing to give us a peak so let's not keep them waiting," said Claude impatiently.

Sebastian nodded as he entered the space, he had been to a number of galleries in Paris, however none of them seemed as particular as this one. He was surrounded by modern art, using lines and color to depict movement. "Whoa," he commented as he looked at several pieces on the wall. Out of the corner of his eye he could see an amused Claude, a smirk had curved his lips slightly, and he seemed more relaxed. A Chinese man stepped into view, he was dressed in turquoise and white, his eyes gazed at the floor, and Sebastian stared at the curvy young Chinese woman hanging off his arm. She wore a dress that was far too short with leggings and a pair of slippers. "Ah it's nice to see the little Earl has sent us such a wonderful warming gift, a pair of chefs," he drawled as he approached, his accent was thick and he seemed to have a never-fading smile. "Lau," Claude said with a smile as he shook the man's hand, "It's wonderful to see you again," he paused and nodded to the woman, "Ran Mao."

"It's nice to see you as well, who is this?" asked Lau as he gestured to Sebastian. His eyes lifted their gaze from the floor, and Sebastian found himself looking at a pair of dark brown eyes. "Sebastian Micahelis," responded Claude smoothly. Lau hummed and rubbed his chin, there was a glint of amusement in his eyes and Sebastian had a feeling Lau knew far more than he was saying. "The new pastry chef, it was nice of Ciel to loan me his newest toy," he commented before looking to Ran Mao. A wave of irritation surged through Sebastian, he wasn't anyone's toy. Not now, he was away from there and didn't like being called anything remotely similar. "Lau, he's a chef, not a toy," commented Claude in the same annoyed tone he had used with the Grower. Lau hummed and looked at Ran Mao. "Well then, let's get started," he commented.

Ran Mao nodded and walked over to the sound system, Sebastian watched her movements, she was graceful and seemed to effortlessly exude a sensual aura. A smooth and soft beat filled the air, and Sebastian hummed, obviously they were trying to set the mood. "All of this work was done by a young man from Tokyo, he will be here tonight," said Lau with ease. He stopped before a painting of a man's face, it was colourful, bright and filled with curvy designs. It reminded Sebastian of the icing of a wedding cake he had made a long time ago. The music grew soft and child like, it sounded as though a music box had been wound and was now playing, "Honestly why are we looking over the show?" asked Sebastian curiously.

Claude hummed, his eyes were locked on the painting, "I figured you could use a little inspiration," he commented. He was about to respond when he noticed the painting move. Sebastian paused and stared at it intently, "what?" he asked in confusion. His lips parted as he watched it move again and slowly realized that there was a person standing before it on a stool, covered with the same pattern as the painting. He hadn't expected this, his eyes followed the figure as he peeled away from the painting, the woman rolled onto the floor and moved with grace. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed another one move, he walked away from the first as a young man who had been painted the same way the blocks of blue and red had been painted on the canvas moved as though he were an automaton from one of the shop windows in Paris.

It was delightful as he watched the pieces slowly come to life, "My god," he whispered as he watched a blue statue of a man wake from his slumber. The man looked at his hands with disbelief as he slowly twisted to test his new found form. Several other statues came to life before Sebastian's eyes, he was lost in a world of childlike wonder. He unconsciously began to clap for the skill of the dancers as they slowly freed themselves from their pieces. "Whimsy," he whispered as he looked at Claude, he had to capture this in a desert. His eyes followed the color and movements of every dancer as they continued. Lau was standing with his arms crossed as Claude watched them move, Ran Mao had vanished. The lights went out and Sebastian jumped with discomfort.

A shiver ran through him, and he wrapped his arms around himself, an eerie blue light emanated from around the corner. It drew him like a child to the moonlight, around the corner there were several large roses, made of white paper that seemed to glow in the dark when the black lights hit them. The music selection changed into something far more mysterious, he watched as a pair of black eyes flickered open and several women slipped out of the flowers. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of them floating across the floor. Moving with grace and skill, as though they were the roses on a bush, displaying themselves. Lights had been sewn into the fabric of the tutus and corsets, making them seem even more dream like. Ran Mao who was the head of the group moved hypnotically, her hands floated in the air as though she were about to bloom. Sebastian was lost in this world of color and child like imagination. The skilled ballerinas did a series of jumps before slowly wilting to the floor. "This is what I have to capture," he stated as he looked at the dancers who were slowly freezing once again, returning to their home's inside the pieces.

~~xXx~~

Claude stared at Sebastian, it was as though he had slipped into another place, after the preview of the evening to come, Sebastian looked as though he had ventured into his own world. He had decided on the dishes he wanted to prepare, however Sebastian hadn't said a word. It was as though all that mattered was capturing that single word in a dish. Claude watched Sebastian as he slowly picked up a lemon and sniffed it, his finger swept over the rough and waxy skin of the fruit and made him shiver. They were shopping for specific ingredients, he didn't have the correct tapioca pearls for his whimsical creation. Yet Sebastian seemed to be thinking differently as he selected what he desired to use.

There were several concerns which were of the Head Chef, the first being that there wasn't an actual meal, they were preparing _hors d'oeuvres_, two pastry based, and three non, this meant that guests had to be able to pick it up and enjoy it without making a mess. The second issue was the high end cliantel. Knowing Ciel he had invited a number of professionals and food critics to enjoy the opening on top of art critiques. "Tapioca?" asked Sebastian curiously. Claude hummed after a moment, he was slightly embarrassed that he hadn't seen Sebastian. He hummed and looked at the raven haired pastry chef. "Yes, I plan on doing something rather interesting," he commented as he looked over the contents of his own basket, he had selected a number of refreshing fruit flavors to mix with it and smiled. This was going to be a rather intriguing creation, a fusion of fun and imagination.

"Oh?" asked Sebastian as he tilted his head to the side curiously, his crimson eyes danced as they attempted to discern what he was going to craft. His golden eyes shifted to Sebastian's basket, it was just as intriguing as his own, he had selected bright and vibrant colors as well as flavors, blueberries, lemons, raspberries, and a carton of truffles. He hummed as he tilted his head to the side and looked at them, "What are you making?" he asked curiously. The burgundy eyed chef sighed and crossed his arms, "I'm not sharing unless you do so," he stated plainly. This surprised Claude, he hadn't expected Sebastian to respond like that. He had anticipated the chef to simply respond. "Okay then I will, however you won't understand," he stated simply.

Sebastian's burgundy eyes narrowed and after a moment a smirk curved his lips, "Try me," he replied with an air of confidence. It was clear Sebastian had interpreted this as a challenge, "I'll show you later," Claude commented before walking toward a register. He placed his packages on the table beside the register and Sebastian paused, he looked slightly concerned and stared at the items in his basket. Clearly now he had seen the price stickers, this was one of the best places to buy produce, and the price tag reflected that. "Put your stuff up here Michaelis," said Claude with a sigh. Sebastian was hesitant, his fun loving and mocking expression was gone, it had been replaced by one with concern. It was as though the man had just been told his relative was in the hospital, an expression which caught Claude off guard. "I can't let you pay for it," responded Sebastian quickly as he attempted to grab his produce and place it in his basket.

The Head Chef grabbed Sebastian's wrist forcefully, causing him to drop the container of strawberries back on the table, which he had attempted to snatch back. Claude gave Sebastian's wrist a squeeze, it was smaller than he expected, thin and delicate. It threw him off a little and he began to wonder why he was so thin, it felt as though he had touched Alois or Ciel's wrists, the pair were very finicky and didn't eat much. He paused as a new thought crossed his mind, Sebastian was very thin. It was almost alarming, however, he decided to avoid the topic for now, he needed Sebastian focused for the evening. "I'm not, I'm expensing it to _Ciel_," he commented as he pulled out a Plum American Express Card with the name of the restaurant on it.

Sebastian paused and watched as the young woman gingerly rang up the produce, "What?" asked Sebastian in confusion. Claude hummed as the woman dutifully said the total, Claude simply handed her the card and asked, "Credit or debit?" there was a note of surprise which suddenly turned into flirtation. It was probably the first time she had handled a car of that caliber. "Debit," he responded as the woman swiped the piece of plastic. Out of the corner of his eye, Claude could see Sebastian staring at his hand which was still locked in Claude's grasp. There was a look of fear in his eyes, "Sorry," said Claude slowly as he released him. He then turned his attention to the cashier, "Okay sir, I need you to sign this," she said with a grin. He noticed how she lifted her chest so he got an eyeful of her bust line. Internally he laughed as he swiftly signed his name and picked up the bag. "Thank you," said Claude before placing the pen on the island and gesturing to the other bag for Sebastian to carry.

He had managed to get out of the store, he could hear Sebastian's shoes hitting the pavement a step behind him. Something was bothering him, it wasn't until now that Claude realized other than the tale which he had heard the other day, he hardly knew anything about the chef. "She really liked you," commented Sebastian casually. He seemed slightly annoyed with amused Claude. He had expected Sebastian to shrug it off or joke about it, he didn't expect him to get irritated. He had lived in Paris after all, being hit on at a register with Sebastian's looks was probably a normal occurrence. "She was okay I guess," he commented with a shrug. He looked over his shoulder to see a not too convinced Sebastian. "You guess? She practically pressed her bust up to your face," he commented. Claude chuckled, clearly this was something Sebastian was familiar with, and seemed to be alright joking about.

"It's nice to know you were looking," commented Claude with a playful grin. He enjoyed hearing Sebastian laugh a few weeks back and now he wanted to hear it again. There was silence and he looked over his shoulder to see Sebastian attempting to hide a crimson blush which appeared across his cheeks. He was failing miserably and somehow Claude found this action endearing, he was alright with joking about it before. "It was a little hard not too, she did put them on display," he commented. The golden eyed chef chuckled, a grin of delight curved his lips as he continued to walk. "Well she can look all she wants, but she will get as far as the other women. No where," he commented as he glanced over his shoulder. Sebastian looked puzzled and Claude suddenly realized that it was time he told his employee the reason he was treated like a dog by Ciel and despised by Hannah. "Not your type?" asked Sebastian curiously.

Claude had attempted to suppress his laughter and finally gave up, he shook his head and responded, "Hardly." Sebastian gave him a sideways look, as though Claude had snapped and the Head Chef sighed. "Too vulgar?" asked Sebastian curiously. Claude shook his head, "Let's just say I prefer individuals who are," he paused and chuckled, "slightly more masculine." Sebastian hummed and nodded as he looked down at the pavement, he couldn't believe he was talking about his dating preference with the man he was attracted to. It was comical in more ways than one. "Oh, so you like girls like Hannah?" asked Sebastian. Claude's golden eyes widened and he stared at Sebastian as though he were an extra terrestrial. "No I'm not into her, well anymore," he sighed and rubbed his temple with his free hand. This was going nowhere. He drew a deep breath and looked at Sebastian, this was getting far too awkward for his taste.

"I'm gay," said Claude after a moment, "I only like men."

There was silence and he watched as Sebastian simply stared at him. He obviously didn't know what to say, "I don't hit on employees. Yes Hannah and I dated in college, her getting hired at _Ciel_ was a complete coincidence," he stated, he didn't want Sebastian to feel uncomfortable. He just couldn't afford to be blamed for Ciel's money maker leaving. "I see, thanks for telling me," commented Sebastian as he swiftly walked past Claude, it was clear the chef was uncomfortable and Claude internally berated himself for saying anything.

Once Sebastian was out of earshot, Claude sighed and muttered, "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Fuck. I'm never going to get anywhere."

* * *

**_Translantion:_**

**_hors d'oeuvres: (Out-side of work) _**_Small bites which are served before a meal, but have little to do with the meal it's self. They are used to tantalize the individual for the meal to come, the are often called "Amuse-bouche" or to amuse the mouth. In this instance Ciel is using it as a way to advertise and draw people into his restaurant forth eveing. It sets the bar for the meal to come. _

_~~xXx~~_

_As a side note, on my profile for Fiction Press there is a section called "PLAYLISTS" there I have the YouTube playlist which was used for this series. The list grows as I write and I add more pieces. All of them are annotated so feel free to take a look. _

_Thanks,_

_KDM_


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: Here is part 2 to "The Whimsical Citron" cheaper. This thank you section won't be as long simply because of the amount of time between this posting and the previous one. _

_Thank you for all the reviews!_

_Vafreek: I'm glad you enjoyed the description of Lau's gallery. I wanted to give him something rather exotic and interesting, since he didn't seem very into food in the manga. As for Sebastian's reaction, well you will see the rest of it here. _

_Guest: I'm glad that you enjoyed! Thank you for the compliments. I would thank you for calling me awesome, but then I would sound like Prussia and that just doesn't fit. _

_Promocat: LOL Naturally. Ciel isn't that cruel. _

_AnetteRuby, thank you for all the PMs! However I don't intend to give much away... spoilers. _

_Okay! On with the new chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 8: Dessert 4: The Whimsical **_**Citron**_**: Part 2**

Ciel looked at his laptop and hummed, Sebastian was making him far more money than he realized, it was only now that he had the time to take a look at the numbers. The chef had been there for about a month and he was gaining attention, which in turn made _Ciel_ more famous. He had lent them to Lau for his use at the gallery opening, the Chinese man seemed uninterested in borrowing Sebastian until Ciel mentioned that the desert he had brought to his office was made by the man. He could remember Lau's expression as he tasted _Amalie_, it was almost as amusing as his own fathers, almost. After tasting the desert, Lau took Sebastian and Claude without hesitation, it was clear he wanted another reason to attend the opening.

Elizabeth had gushed the entire night after seeing Sebastian about how handsome he was, naturally Ciel was irritated with this, however he was sure he would really enjoy watching Sebastian run in circles as he attempted to prepare the _hors __d'oeuvres_ for the evening to come, "Perhaps I will stop in and see how they are," said Ciel was a smirk as he pushed his chair back and slipped out of it. He loved the fact that since they were his chefs he could do pretty much as he pleased, "Time to see what that chef's got," commented Ciel as he left his office with keys in hand.

His father was a major fan of art and theater, only for the sake of his mother, if it weren't' for Rachel he wouldn't care and Ciel knew that. Vincent wasn't like most parents, he was always busy with his company and working to make his stronghold on the toy industry even stronger. As a child Ciel saw little of Vincent, his workaholic father was relentless on his escapade to make Phuntom Toys the number one company in England. He had ignored Rachel, until one morning she found a lump in her breast. That day changed Ciel's life forever, he was in high school when he heard her crying in the living room. At first she couldn't say a word, she looked broken and sad, two things which his mother never was before. Rachel was a warm and beautiful mother, whose smile lit the room. To see her this upset disturbed Ciel, he could still remember her pained voice as she whispered, _"I found a lump in my breast."_ He was a Junior in High school and knew what her deepest fear was, those words seemed to pull Ciel's world apart at the seams.

At first the pair worked to hide it from Vincent, at least until the results from the biopsy were back. Her family was predispositioned for Breast Cancer, she had prayed she would have it, however fate was cruel to her. The biopsy came back positive, and she was sent to a clinic where they could determine the best treatment. For a month Vincent was left out of the loop, until the doctor decided to remove the tumor. It was only then she finally told Vincent of her disease. Ciel could remember the look in his brown eyes as he listened to his wife tell him she had cancer. He looked terrified, sad and guilty all at the same time. From then on Vincent worked harder for corporate success. Leaving Ciel to look after his mother. He watched her as she moaned in pain from the chemo, it wasn't until the doctors wanted to put Rachel under the knife that Vincent paid attention.

After he heard what they planned, he took Rachel to the US for treatment, leaving Ciel alone with Tanaka. The butler served as his guardian and did well in a number of instances, however he couldn't protect Ciel from everything like Vincent could. His own father never came to England, Ciel felt as though he were loved on Vincent's terms. Even when Ciel had been beaten to a pulp by larger students his father didn't come to England. He was a forgotten child, loved only when it was convenient for Vincent. Ciel was proud that his mother fought to save her breasts and for her life. Her strength gave him the courage to keep going. He wasn't about to allow his own father to uproot him, Vincent wasn't there until he needed to sign a check. He sighed as he pulled into a parking spot on the side of the street, Rachel was alive and well, however the incident caused Ciel to pull away from his father.

He hummed as he looked at the gallery, Lau had proposed this unusual idea a year ago, and Ciel simply wrote a check. He entered the building and sighed, he had seen every piece in Lau's studio and was well aware of their plans, he could only hope that his two chefs wouldn't embarrass him. Ciel's sapphire eyes locked on the side door and swiftly opened it, "Okay then let's see," he commented as he looked inside. He was invited by the sweet smell of lemons, truffles, chocolate, berries, his stomach growled, and he felt himself drooling with anticipation. He slowly looked around the corner and stared at Sebastian who was working with a bowl of small balls of dough. He stared at the man's delicate hands as he rolled one of them flat and ran his hand over the surface, "Faustus, do they have a juice glass up there?" he called over the chopping of Claude as he worked an onion. "Yes I saw one earlier," he responded as he cleaned the knife with his fingers and turned to the cabinet.

Ciel felt slightly confused as he looked at his chefs, neither of them was in their jackets. Claude was in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up while Sebastian was working in a tee shirt. Oddly this change in appearance didn't affect his skill, it simply made him seem even more exotic. Someone with his looks, working in a kitchen dressed as though he were going to hang out with the guys was very different from what he traditionally looked like. Ciel was silent as he watched Claude snatch the glass and pass it to Sebastian. He hummed as he watched the chef with curiosity, he wasn't sure what the glass was for. Sebastian floured the rim of the juice glass and with ease began to check the baises of his treats. Ciel face palmed once he realized his own stupidity.

Sebastian had what looked like a shallow cupcake tray beside him and lined each of the slots with one of the circles, they fit perfectly into the bottom which caused Ciel to wonder just what this chef was creating. The tray screamed cupcakes and yet he was working with dough, Ciel was never in the kitchen, he prefered to be on the floor tasting the food. His eyes narrowed as he watched the chef turn on his heel, Claude moved out of Sebastian's way as he checked the thermometer inside the oven. He didn't have to say a word to the Head Chef, the pair moved as though they were guided by their own instincts, reading each other with ease as they crafted their food. It was slightly irritating to Ciel that he hadn't been noticed by either chef. Ciel took a seat in a chair which was near the wall and watched as Sebastian picked up the tray and placed it in the oven, "Time?" asked Claude as he picked up a timer. Sebastian grabbed a carton of butter and carton of what looked like sour cream. Ciel squinted to read the large red script on the container, "_Crème fraiche_?" he asked in confusion.

"It's similar to sour cream, however it has a lower viscosity and contains about 32-45% butterfat. It has a lower pH than traditional US sour cream, but is able to pick up flavor easier," explained Sebastian as he turned to the stove and set up his double boiler. Ciel stared at the chef, "That sounds like chemistry," commented the slate haired young man. He crossed his arms and his foot bobbed up and down with his impatiens. Claude reached over his shoulder and held a glass measuring cup with a butter knife in it, "Thank you, and pastries are chemistry," responded Sebastian as he took the liquid measure and knife. Ciel was silent as he watched the chef cut 8 Tablespoons of butter and tossed it into the top of the double boiler. After doing so the pastry chef measured a cup of _Crème fraiche _and pulled a spoon from his black bag.

Ciel huffed and asked, "What are you making?" he hated being ignored, he expected Claude to ignore him as he cooked but didn't like the fact that Sebastian was. The chef slowly began to add the thick white substance to the pot and responded, "That is a surprise," he replied honestly. Ciel's eyes narrowed and he hissed, "I hate surprises." Claude was rinsing what looked like pearls in a strainer under cold water in the sink, there was a smug smile on his face. Once again Sebastian was aiming to embarrass him, "I need to know so I can tell Lau, if you embarrass me Sebastian, I will destroy you," he hissed. The burgundy eyed chef froze and looked at Ciel, there was a look of fear, "Ciel, shouldn't you be getting changed for the event?" asked Claude lazily.

The young man shot Claude a dirty look and hummed, "Not until I know the menu," he responded stubbornly. Sebastian hummed and opened the fridge, he placed a black fluted cup on a paper plate and responded, "Feel free to help yourself, I'm working on the second pastry now." Ciel looked at the small round white piece before him, it was bite sized and covered in a beautiful bright white fudge ribbons. He hesitantly picked it up and popped it in his mouth. A medley of chocolate, with a hint of lemon and something else played on his tongue. It was earthy, vibrant and sophisticated, yet when paired with the lemon it became playful. He swallowed and looked at the empty cup sadly, the moment was gone as quickly as he had popped in his mouth.

"What?" asked Ciel in confusion as he looked at the now empty fluted cup, "What was that?" he asked as he looked up at Sebastian who was now putting the double boiler off to the side and began cracking several eggs, "A dark chocolate and lemon truffle with truffle oil," he responded as he flipped the juice cup over. Ciel's eyes followed Sebastian's skilled hands as he cracked the egg singled handedly and separate the yolk from the white. The yolk rested inside the egg shell as he siphoned off the white, he transferred the yolk from one half of the shell to the other until he was satisfied. After doing so he tossed the last yoke in the pot and added a cup of refined sugar.

He plucked a glistening silver whisk from his bag and swiftly folded air into the filling, Ciel couldn't take his eyes off of this man. Every movement looked natural, it was intriguing to watch. Claude was adding juice to the pearls, and Ciel looked at him quizzically, "What is the second treat?" asked Ciel as he turned his attention to Sebastian once again. Only this time Sebastian didn't respond, he was adding lemon juice slowly to the concoction in the pan, stirring it constantly as he went.

Ciel huffed and was about to walk away when the timer went off, "I've got it," Claude stated as he turned off the obnoxious timer and opened the oven, "Hot pan," he called as he placed it on a glass cutting board near Sebastian. The smell of lemons filled his nose, it was refreshing and powerful as he watched Sebastian slowly fill the pan. Ciel watched the vivid colored yellow filling fall into the pan before Sebastian promptly placed the pan back in the oven.

"_Petites tartes au citron_," Sebastian replied and Ciel stared at him blankly. He had no idea what Sebastian had said, in truth Ciel spoke French but Sebastian spoke it so fluently that he had a hard time keeping up with him. "Little Lemon Tarts," Claude clarified. Ciel nodded as he pushed himself off the stool, "Ah, see that wasn't difficult. Next time just tell me," stated Ciel curtly before walking out the door, he still couldn't believe that the pastry chef was daring enough to play games with him.

Ciel hummed as he closed the door, he could still taste the truffle on his tongue. It was lush and lingered, he couldn't believe it. His fingers brushed his lips, he could remember the smooth texture as the treat practically melted in his mouth. It was as though he had been kissed. That lingering sensation on his lips, the warmth of chocolate as it had melted across his tongue and the polite zing which zapped his senses. A kiss that tasted like truffles, Ciel blushed furiously, a kiss from the haughty Pậtissier known as Sebastian.

He shook his head as he attempted to push the thought out of his mind. "Fuck, where is that frivolous bartender when I need him?" asked Ciel as he crossed his arms and went to find Alois.

~~xXx~~

Claude had finished making his dish and Sebastian stared at the brightly colored beads on the white paper plate, it looked like Roe. He tilted his head to the side and then looked at Claude once again. He hadn't seen a glass bottle of caviar in the basket, and there wasn't any in the fridge. He hummed as he attempted to understand just what he was looking at. Claude was out on the floor, at Ciel's request. Finally, he had some time to get his head in order. After Claude had stated that he was gay, Sebastian had shut everything out so he could focus on cooking. He sighed and looked at the plate as he perched himself on a stool. He honestly wasn't sure how to respond, to be honest he was slightly a little uneasy being around Claude knowing that he was like Father Francis. Sebastian shivered at the thought, his arms wrapped around himself unconsciously.

In Paris he had been hit on a number of times, but managed to turn them away swiftly or come up with some remark. Yet, when Claude stated his preference he couldn't seem to find the words. "He's free to love who ever he likes," he whispered as he hung his head, his forehead rested in his now clean palms. Sebastian didn't hold grudges against gays, however, he didn't want to be one of them. He didn't like being hit on, or treated like an object. Burgundy eyes were locked on the plate with the sample of what Claude had made. He picked up the Waterford cracker which it rested on and looked at it. The small pearls glistened in the bright orange liquid as he attempted to figure out just what he was looking at.

Oddly the image of Claude in his smashing three-piece suit came to mind. Sebastian blushed brightly and looked away from the cracker. "Damn it! Why do things have to be so complicated?" he moaned. He was pulled from his thoughts by a cough, Sebastian's head snapped up to see Claude leaning in the doorway, his head tilted to the side away from the door frame. Those powerful arms and legs were crossed, there was one thing Sebastian couldn't deny, the man was gorgeous. Claude sighed as he slipped his glasses off his nose and ran a hand through his hair, this was perhaps the most expressive he had ever seen the chef, it was unusual. "What's the matter?" asked Claude as he slipped his glasses back on and pushed himself away from the door frame. Sebastian drew a deep breath, it was useless to deny that the man was attractive, his charm seemed to work on nearly everyone. "Nothing, just tired," Sebastian admitted, he still wasn't sleeping well and he had a feeling it was beginning to show on his face.

Claude's amber eyes were locked on the cracker that he was still holding, "I was curious and there was extra," Sebastian explained nervously. He had no idea how to talk to him, he was the Head Chef, but a gay one. His head was a mess as he thought of what Francis had done to him and Claude in his suit. Claude wasn't like that man, he was tender in his own way, gentle even though he yelled at chefs and demanded the best from them, he still had their best interests in mind. He would protect them and stand up for them, like he had with Lau in the gallery today. "I was hoping you would try it, I would be lying if I didn't say I didn't reserve a few of your treats for my own selfish consumption," he commented with a smile.

Sebastian watched the tall, muscular chef open the microwave which was above the stove and pull a plat. Resting on it was a sample of all the different flavored truffles Sebastian had made, as well as the little lemon tarts. He looked as though he had managed to snag a few gold bars. "I see," said Sebastian lightly, "I hope they're to your liking, Faustus." The violet haired chef froze, it was clear he had noticed the sudden professionalism in Sebastian's voice. Distance, he needed distance to straighten his head out. Claude hummed, his face seemed to freeze as his smile vanished from his face. Sebastian noticed the glint of sadness in amber eyes and internally apologized. He didn't want to hurt him, however he couldn't handle being treated like a thing, never again.

Sebastian slipped the cracker between his lips and paused, it wasn't caviar. The pearls were nearly the same texture however not quite and it was a bright and playful watermelon flavor. It was completely unexpected from the chef who was nibbling on one of the miniature tarts. Sebastian swallowed and looked at Claude, amber eyes had fluttered closed and it looked as though he were purring with delight. "_Faux Roe_?" asked Sebastian after a moment as he looked at the rest of the cracker. There was one chef in La Cordon Bleu who made this constantly, he had managed to confuse the professors at first with it on a dish. Sebastian had never seen the chef, however he had heard of the spin on traditional caviar using tapioca. Why he hadn't remembered sooner eluded him, it wasn't something he would usually forget. "_Oui_, I wanted something a little different," Claude commented as he rubbed his fingers together to get the crumbs off, "Good?" he asked after a moment.

The raven haired chef nodded and responded, "A welcome change." Claude hummed before popping a truffle in his mouth. Sebastian stared at Claude's lips as they wrapped around the small piece of chocolate and he slowly chewed, his eyes fluttered closed and he hummed with delight. Absently Sebastian wondered what the man would look like eating Turkish Delight. "I'm okay with it," said Sebastian after a moment. Claude's eyes snapped open and he looked slightly confused, and Sebastian suddenly realized that it sounded as though he were criticizing the chef's food. "Not the food," he said quickly and held up his hands in his own defense. "With your," he paused for a moment and closed his eyes, "preference." He wasn't about to tell the Head Chef that he couldn't stand gays, or that he found Claude disgusting. It would be a lie if he did, and he certainly didn't find Claude to be disgusting. "You are free to love who ever you like, and I have no right to judge," Sebastian said smoothly, his voice was void of emotion, and he knew it.

Claude seemed to relax a little, he could tell it had been bothering Claude, "Thanks, I'm glad that you're open minded enough to not be disgusted," Claude admitted with a small smile. Sebastian nodded and hummed.

~~xXx~~

It had been an excruciatingly long day, after the gallery opening a number of the guests went to _Ciel_, for dinner. Sebastian had a feeling they were using the event as a form of advertising; he simply hoped that there wouldn't have been so many guests. Claude had reverted to his typical tyrannical self, it puzzled Sebastian how the golden eyed chef could switch gears. When it was simply the two of them working together, Claude was kind, and didn't seem irritated. Almost relaxed and comfortable in his own skin, yet in the kitchen he turned into a tyrant. Sebastian was quick to stop his bicycle outside of the apartment complex and dismount. The air was thick with humidity and he had a feeling it would rain any minute. The screams of a new-born echoed through the halls as well as fighting couples, his flat wasn't in the best part of London, however it was a place he could call his. He continued his hike up the stairs with his roadster over his shoulder, it wasn't as heavy as it looked, it was one of the few qualities Sebastian made sure of. He wanted a bike that was durable and light so in case he wrecked he could pick it up and carry it a good distance. He finally reached the third floor and noticed a couple making out in the hallway.

Another thing that the pastry chef was accustomed to, Parisians were rather open when it came to that side of their lives. He sighed as he walked by, it was still awkward for him to walk by though. It always made him feel as though he were intruding. He stopped outside of his flat door and paused, it was open. He had locked it that morning, he remembered doing so. He felt his heart begin to pound as he looked at the crack in the door, no one else except the land lord had the keys and he had requested a new lock to be put on the door. Sebastian's hand shook as he quietly pushed the door open, the lights in his flat were off and he began to wonder if some had simply ransacked his place. He continued inside only for a bright light to appear in the room after he had closed the door.

The raven haired chef jumped as he looked at the woman who was now sitting with her legs crossed. She had short white hair and a pair of mysterious violet eyes. Every part of him was screaming to run when he noticed the leather crop in her hands. She was smiling with glee as she rose from her seat, "Hello Sebastian," she said smugly. Sebastian stumbled backward in a feeble attempt to get to the door. "Angela," he stammered, his voice was just above a whisper and tremors of fear rushed through him. She chuckled as she grew closer, Sebastian turned to leave only to feel a two pairs of arms grip his arms. He hissed as they harshly squeezed his biceps, "It's been a while," she purred as she playfully hit the leather switch of the ridding crop in her hand. "Too long actually, I was beginning to wonder if you would ever pay us back the money your piece of shit father borrowed," she mused as she stopped before him.

Sebastian grit his teeth as she trailed the riding crop up his chest, it was cold, harsh and unpleasant. "I've sent checks," he muttered. Angela looked at him with irritation, those violent violet eyes narrowed even more. "Not enough, you're barely paying us a thing," she commented. Sebastian knew his pay was insignificant compared to the amount his father had taken. He was paid at the end of every week, and it was now that he started regretting shopping for groceries. He should have never splurged on the Simi, he should have simply sent the check along with the others. "That's all the money I'm making, I've given you my pay checks entirely," he replied honestly. She hummed as tapped his chest with the crop. "I see, consider this a warning Sebastian, pay up. I'm tired of waiting and I don't want to see your pretty face distorted after a beat the shit out of you," she purred with delight as she used the tip of the crop to crank Sebastian's neck upward uncomfortably. Sebastian swallowed nervously, "Besides, you're just as disgusting as the rest. I'll give you two weeks. Have the payments in full by then and perhaps I won't resort to selling you like bad stock."

Red eyes locked on the pair of violets, he knew she wasn't joking. She hummed as she looked at him, "Now then, just as a reminder," she commented. Sebastian paled as he felt the two massive men behind him adjust their grip. Angela pulled back with the crop in hand and delivered a harsh blow across his chest. Sebastian grit his teeth in an attempt to hold back his scream in agony. He knew he couldn't hid forever.


	9. Chapter 9

_Autor's Note: I want to thank you guys for your amazing reviews and PMs! You guys are amazing and make this so much fun! The last chapter was well received which surprised me. _

_Rangurren, thank you for adding this piece to your Favorites List. I'm glad you are enjoying it. _

_Shane: Thank you for your review, I'm glad that you are interested however I will tell you this, who finds Sebastian is the last one you would expect. _

_AnnetteRuby: Angela is my least favorite character in the series. I needed a debt collector, and she seemed like the obvious choice. You'll find that she is interesting in the way she treats Sebastian, as for her abuse she sees Sebastian as a commodity. Not a person. I'm glad you love the drama, things are about to be even crazier._

_Promocat: Well Sebastian's father isn't the nicest guy, and I feel bad for him too. _

_Elle Yeah: I'm glad that you enjoy the detail in my story and the style I write. You have no idea how nice it is to hear that you hang on every word. It makes me feel like I've accomplished something. Updating will vary in time once I really start working and go back to college. By then I will have a schedule and post it at the bottom of the first chapter, if this series goes that long. _

_Ringo Juicu: As always I appreciate the review! I love your input, and I'm glad that you are enjoying the playlist. It takes a bit to select the right piece but they certainly add to the piece. I'm glad you liked the museum, I honestly thought that it would be something both Lau and Ran Mao would be willing to do. It was out there enough where you could see the man having a field day and enjoying himself. As I mentioned I dislike Angela, she's always been on the list of characters that I will always use as a villain. Finally you'll see who finds Sebastian, it's an interesting twist. _

_And now for the chapter!~_

* * *

**Chapter 9: Blood and Tears**

The sting of the riding crop was intense as Sebastian slowly fell to the floor, "Pay us," demanded Angela. Sebastian stared at her pristine white boots and watched as she knelt on the floor. He shivered as he began to wonder what she would do to him next. Her cold fingers forcefully gripped his chin, she harshly yanked it so his eyes were looking directly at hers. "If you don't I will have to sell you," she hissed before releasing his chin, "He's had enough, I think he understands," she called as she stepped over the fallen chef. Once the door was shut Sebastian finally released the tears which had threatened to fall during the beating. His chest stung, she had given him a total of 8 lashings, between her taunting and rough blows to the stomach if he tried to speak.

He closed his eyes and began to wonder if he was actually a thing to be bought and sold. An item on a shelf which, people could purchase and command to do as they pleased. He didn't ask for this, he didn't ask for his father to borrow money from Angela and her goons. He hadn't asked to be put in the kitchen from hell, he never asked for any of this pain. He was drowning in it, the nightmares the false hopes of love and affection, all of it was too much. Sebastian slipped his hand into his pocket and reached for his mobile, he had to call someone, he was in too much pain. It wasn't until he looked at the phone that he realized there was only one person's number in the phone. It was Soma's number for work at _Ciel_. He couldn't call that, there would be questions which would somehow find their way to the owner's hands and he would surely be fired. "Maybe I really am worthless," he mumbled before passing out.

~~xXx~~

It had been three days since Claude had told Sebastian he was gay, and the pastry chef was avoiding him like the plague. He didn't even catch Sebastian looking at him anymore, clearly something was wrong. Over the last few days he had grown paler and slightly more jumpy. The simple sound of a pan being dropped was enough to make him jump out of his skin. His deserts looked and tasted good, yet something was different. They seemed cold and dead. The warmth which had made him the obvious choice had left them, now they seemed lifeless. Even _Amalie_ that had charmed a number of customers seemed to be a whisper of what she had been. None of the customers had noticed that there was something wrong with the chef. The compliments and reviews flowed in papers and through the doors with ease.

The chef sighed and he looked up from the dough, the spark which had been kindled as he baked was gone. Claude tisked as he watched the lifeless chef return to frosting the small cakes on the tray before him. "Food is a reflection of the heart and soul. When the heart is in turmoil, the chef's food changes taste," he whispered as he watched Sebastian add yet another perfect rose to the top of the cake. "When they are pain, it shows in their food," he whispered. Ronald came through the doors with a plate in hand, a single bite of the beautiful cake had been taken. Claude's eyes widened there was only one reason for the plate to be returned. There was silence in the kitchen as Ronald placed the plate before Sebastian.

Claude swore he saw what was left of Sebastian's pride vanish, there was no hope left. His eyes fell on the plate, "The complaint?" asked Sebastian softly. His eyes didn't leave the bone white plate now sitting on the bench. All of his attention was on the small cake, nether seemed to matter anymore. "It's lifeless and tastes terrible" he replied. The pastry chef looked at the plate blankly, it was as though this were the first time Sebastian had ever had a plate sent back. "Michaelis?" asked Ronald as he attempted to call the chef's attention, he looked slightly panicked as he did so. The raven haired chef didn't look up, he couldn't.

The Head Chef couldn't stand this, his feet carried him across the floor and he looked at Sebastian. "Micahelis, snap out of it! What did you do differently?" demanded Claude. He was both shocked and nervous, Sebastian wasn't the most stable however for this to occur there had to be something wrong, perhaps it was as simple as a ratio being off. "Nothing," replied Sebastian as he slowly peeled his eyes off the plate, "It was all the same." In a flash Claude was holding a golden fork in his hands and tasting the pastry. To someone without a sensitive palate this would be wonderful, yet as a chef he knew differently, and clearly the diner did as well. "Okay, tell Spears to give him a bottle as an apology, he will know what to pick if it's who I think it is. Make sure he isn't too obvious and that the diner hasn't made a mistake," Claude quickly stated. Ronald was about to question when Claude pointed to the doors, "Go, if you wait too long they will wonder what happened," he barked.

The blond jumped and nodded before heading back onto the floor with his well rehearsed smile and manners. Once he was gone Claude turned his attention to Sebastian, "Finish that batch and take a break, you look tired," he stated bluntly. He was about to ask what was going through his head until he heard Canterbury call, "Chef! This doesn't look right!" It hurt but Claude had to attend to the issue first, "Pull yourself together Michaelis," he hissed before heading to the other side of the kitchen. He hated seeing such a fiery chef like this, he had to find out what was wrong, every time Sebastian moved a certain way there was a look of pain in his eyes.

"Michaelis," called an all too stern and familiar voice, Claude looked over to see Spears had entered the kitchen, it had to be bad if he was here. Ciel usually sent him to chew Claude out when something wasn't to his liking. William was a perfectionist and knew his craft, stern and tough, yet this time there was a look of pity in his eyes, something he didn't show Claude. Then again William was another person who was enthralled by Sebastian's taste. "Yes?" asked Sebastian as he finished plating another petite four. His hands stilled for a moment as though he had forgotten something. "Ciel wants to see you tonight, once the guests have gone of course," William said slowly. It was taking everything the Sommelier had to not question the pastry chef and Claude could tell. A sigh lift Sebastian's lips and he nodded, "In his office?" he asked slowly. William's hair shifted slightly as he nodded, the gesture was small and slightly nervous.

"I understand," replied Sebastian as he went to another oven and pulled out a tray of puffed pastries. William disappeared from view and Claude watched as a lifeless chef continued to craft his food. If he wasn't working he would pull Sebastian into his office and demand an answer, it was bad enough he was late for work the day after the gallery opening. He had thought it was because they had exhausted him, hosting an event plus working that evening was a great deal of baking and would stress anyone out. He was stiff then, Claude shook his head, and began to wonder what had happened between now and then.

"What's the problem?" asked Claude as he looked at Canterbury. The small chef pointed to the pot and stated, "Thin." It was supposed to be a cream sauce and it had the consistency of water, which meant the rue was wrong. Either Canterbury didn't add enough flour to the base or added the cream too quickly. "Turn it down and leave it alone for a seconds to allow it to stiffen up, then raise the heat slowly," he directed as he reached across the stove and turned down the burner. It was a simple mistake, yet it would alter the perception of the dish. In the kitchen it is possible to fix some mistakes by altering taste, temperature and even purpose. It is even possible to restart when the element simply isn't working, life didn't work that way. One shot to nail it, even if it were seconds and you had to decide between one thing or another. Without a chance to fix it, there were many times he wished he could simply throw out something he had said or done and amended it.

"Chef, it's still too thin," commented Canterbury. The head chef looked at the pot and sighed, he didn't have time to remake it, however there was no way to alter it and still call it the same dish. "Remake it, just a smaller batch it's nearly the end of the night and I don't want to have to throw anymore away," said Claude smoothly. The violet haired chef blinked before going to make the rue from scratch again. "You seem irritated," Claude turned to see Hannah was standing there grinning from ear to ear. He was expressionless, he still couldn't believe at one point he honestly thought of marrying her. It wasn't until he had heard her talking to friends that she had no interest in him but money. He hummed and looked at her, "Yes, you're talking to me and not cooking," he spat. Hannah grinned and tapped her finger to her chin, "If I didn't know better, I'd say it's because you're concerned for your little pậtissier," she commented. Claude ignored her taunt and returned to work, "You should watch your skewers, they're rather dull and tearing rather than piercing," he commented before walking away. Tanned fingers picked up one of the long metal rods and she tested the tip with her finger, "All the more painful," she muttered as she picked up her sharpening rod and began to sharpen the tip.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian found himself standing outside of the door of Ciel's office, he knew he messed up as soon as the plate came back, it was the first which had ever been returned to him. The pain of looking at something which he knew was perfect being thrown back in his face and labeled rancid was more than enough to shatter what little pride as a chef he had left. He slowly lifted a hand to knock on the door, he couldn't afford to lose this job. Angela would see to it that he paid her, no matter the method. He slowly knocked on the door, the sound echoed in his ears as he waited for permission to open the door. He was going to face the little master of the Phantomhives, who was already not impressed with him. "Enter," called the all too familiar and nerve wracking voice. The pậtissier slowly pushed the door open and entered the office, leaning against his desk was the slate haired owner.

Ciel was dressed differently than when they had first met, he was wearing a slimming two piece suit without a tie, he could see the beautiful navy blue fabric resting on the desk. His arms were crossed and his eyes were filled with fury. "Close the door," commanded Ciel, his voice was icy and distant. Sebastian obeyed for fear that the owner would do worse to him if he didn't. Getting fired wasn't something he could afford. The door clicked as he pulled the golden handle, a sign that he couldn't run, not now. Sapphire blue eyes pierced him, evaluating him silently, determining his value. "Sit," Ciel hissed as he gazed at the chair directly in front of him. Sebastian drew a deep breath and summoned all the courage he had left as he crossed the floor, he was terrified. The consequences of this meeting were far too great and he really needed someone to save him.

He settled in the dark wood and bright leather red chair before the young man, it was more comfortable than it looked. However, with Ciel's hardened gaze he felt as though he were sitting on a bed of nails. "A plate was sent back to the kitchen, do you know who sent it back?" asked Ciel gruffly as he glared at the chef. Ronald hadn't said who it was that sent it, he could remember Claude's instructions to the head waiter to have William compensate the diner. He seemed to know who it was however no one told Sebastian. "Stephen Black," replied Ciel firmly, the name spoke for itself. Stephen Black was a famous critic around the world, a brutal man who had the power to make or break a chef. He could be the saint who placed a chef on a pedestal or, "The Undertaker," whispered Sebastian as he closed his eyes. His stomach churned, he would surely be fired for this.

"Thankfully since he is a family friend I convinced him to come back tomorrow so he can meet you," Ciel began, "Luckily he had tasted your dishes at the gallery and was brought a treat by William when they met." Sebastian looked up, he was going to have to face the man tomorrow, he had several hours to get his head straight to do it. "Apparently the two were colleagues," said Ciel with the wave of his hand, it was apparent he didn't care about that detail even though most owners would, "He's willing to give you a second chance." Sebastian noticed that the cold look in Ciel's eyes didn't fade and had a feeling there was a punishment involved for embarrassing him. He would expect nothing less of him, "Second chances are rare, if you screw this up he may take another star," hissed Ciel.

Sebastian paused, the Undertaker had taken the first of the 5 stars from _Ciel_. If he were to drop a star this could to serious damage to the restaurant and take a long time to recover, especially if the review were from the Undertaker himself. The amount of damage which could be done by one review of the man was enough to close restaurants indefinitely and cause chefs to quit. His chest still stung from Angela's beating, it wasn't bleeding as badly as it had the day after, however there was no way he could take his coat off. "You will have to wear the white jacket, he is very particular, and our kitchen only allows the head chef to wear black," he stated. Sebastian's eyes widened, he didn't read that clause and Ciel could tell he was startled, "You are the pậtissier, and to be honest we don't have a white jacket in your size." Sebastian was still nervous, his wounds would reopen periodically, it was bad enough he could feel the blood seeping into his shirt under the coat as they spoke.

"What?" asked Sebastian in confusion. Ciel sighed and continued, "He's old school, just wear the coat you did in college, he'll probably let that slide." Sebastian still had that one but it wasn't thick enough, if he were to break the scabs because he moved wrong it would seep through the coat. "I think so," he commented, "I'm not sure, I did move here recently and most of my stuff is still in boxes." Ciel rubbed his forehead with his fingers, he looked slightly more annoyed, "Then speak to Claude, he should have something that fits you," he commented. That was worse, first his employer and now his boss were asking him to change. He stared at Ciel and then at his hands, he couldn't allow it, he didn't want pity.

"Michaelis it's a coat," he commented, he sighed and looked curious at something. "Hang on, you've got filling on you, didn't you at least look at yourself in the mirror before coming to see me," he commented. Sebastian hadn't taken the time, he didn't want to see his ghastly face staring back at him. Ciel took a handkerchief and was about to wipe it away when Sebastian instinctively slapped his hand away. "What the bloody hell Micahelis! You've got what looks like filling on your chest," he commented as he forcefully dabbed the blob. Sebastian grit his teeth, it was right above one of the welts Angela had been courteous enough to give him. "There," he said with a hint of finality, "Honestly you're hopeless, you look like shit, and you honestly need to stop jumping, I'm not firing you. However if you continue to endanger my restaurant I will," he stated gruffly.

Sebastian stared at the once white handkerchief, where he had dabbed the filling away was tainted with red, a crimson flower had bloomed on the once pristine handkerchief and he felt a wave of fear crash into him. He couldn't afford for Ciel to look down. "What the devil are you staring-" he looked down at the handkerchief and his eyes widened, "-You, this is," he stammered. He looked closer at the handkerchief and Sebastian jumped from his seat, he was in trouble now, "Blood," Ciel stated, his sapphire eyes were wide with fear and shock as he reached for the chef. "Take your coat off," he demanded, his white hands reaching for the black buttons on the article which was hiding the injuries that covered his chest. "I," stammered Sebastian as he pulled back toward the door. His deft fingers found the handle blindly as he pushed the door open. "I'm sorry I had nicked my finger before and rather than getting blood in the food I held it to my chest as I ran to rinse it," he lied. Ciel looked skeptically at Sebastian's face, he was unable to see the chef's hands. "Then why are you trying to run?" asked Ciel, he wasn't convinced.

Sebastian smiled nervously, "I just remembered I left the ovens on, I need to turn them off," he replied. Ciel sighed and shook his head, "Fine, just pull yourself together for tomorrow and get some fucking sleep, you look like a ghost," he hissed. Sebastian sighed with relief he was going to get out and still had a job, he had been warned but a warning was far better than being fired. "Yes, I apologize," he stated before promptly leaving. He was free and Ciel didn't demand much more, now all he had to do was wrap his chest tight enough to hide the blood as he cooked tomorrow.

~~xXx~~

Claude was doing a once over in the kitchen and noticed Sebastian's things were still out, and the ovens were still on. "He's still with Ciel?" he asked curiously as he waited a moment, he wanted to speak to Sebastian, something was very wrong and he knew it. He hummed after a few minutes and decided to help by turning the ovens off, it was the least he could do. He turned the knobs when he noticed something odd on the floor, it was a small bright red dot, he nearly missed it.

"Huh?" he muttered as he slowly knelt down and looked at it closer. It looked as though it had dripped off one of the wrappers from a chicken. He looked at the red flower on the floor, his hands sifted through his pockets for one of the napkins he always carried. He gently dabbed it up and sniffed it, it was blood and smelt more metallic than a chicken's, it was human. "Blood?" he asked after a moment. There was only one person who used these ovens they were reserved for the pastry chef. He froze after suddenly realizing whose it was. He felt his own blood run cold, Sebastian was injured and working, he had to know just how badly he was hurt and what caused it. He rose from the floor, now the pain made sense, it all made sense.

"Why didn't he say anything," he whispered in anger as he looked at the napkin. His job was to protect his chefs, yet Sebastian was wandering around injured it irritated him. Before he realized it he was in the hallway eagerly looking for the chef, praying he could catch him and talk to him. He should have noticed sooner, his food was so dead it hurt. "Fuck, where are you?" he asked as he looked around the dining hall and continued through the building.

~~xXx~~

The stinging in Sebastian's chest didn't subside, he didn't want to use the bathroom at his workplace, however he couldn't take the stickiness on his skin much more. He paused as he walked into the break room and opened the bathroom door. He was thankful the handkerchief only picked up a small amount of blood. It would have been worse if Ciel had dabbed more, he wouldn't have been able to lie. He hated lying but telling the truth would raise too many questions. Far too many. A hiss left the raven haired chef as he slipped out of the black coat. It honestly hurt to move, the simple twisting motion caused him more pain than he imagined possible.

He sighed as his eyes locked on the ghastly reflection in the mirror. The large welts were raw and still bleeding; he had popped them open again. The blood ran like ribbons down his chest as he stripped his tee-shirt away. He slowly touched the deep wounds with the tips of his fingers, it stung, and he could see the bright red liquid on his pale fingers. His brows furrowed as he thought of all the blood he had shed over the years, the punishments he had received from Father Francis, falling out of trees and off walls, the time be had burnt his arm on the stove, nicking his fingers with knives as he learned how to use them, wrecking his roadster, and now this beating. When he thought about it, he had shed more blood than most and was covered in a great deal of scars. There had been one thing to cling to through it all, pastries.

Which now, he was told weren't even right, "What do I do now?" he asked as he slowly turned the faucet on and picked up a wad of paper towels. He dampened them and began to gently dab his wounds, he would have to rewrap them when he got home, but this would ease some of the stinging. Ciel was expecting him to work magic and Sebastian now doubted if he were able to. He turned off the faucet and bowed his head, his pale hands gripped the edge of the sink and he muttered, "Can I really bake a pastry that will enchant the man?" he whispered. Ciel had given him a day to get his head straight and pick something that would enthrall the man. He seriously began to doubt he could. "Someone, help me," he muttered.

The door swung open violently causing the chef to jump, standing there was the young concierge "Oh sorry sir, I just need to-" his eyes widened, "What happened to you?" Soma stood there staring at Sebastian's chest, he was at a loss for words for a moment. After a rather long pause he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "You know, I don't care about your hobbies or fetishes but you should really take care of things like that," said Soma as he looked at the welts on Sebastian's chest. Hazel eyes were locked on the blood and he slowly walked over to the pậtissier. "Here," Soma said softly, "I'll help you out."

Sebastian jumped a little and looked at him nervously, Soma seemed like a nice guy, he could just hope no one told Ciel about his injury. "Soma? Are you in there, come on I have a wonderful batch of," Agni opened the door and stared for a moment. He looked every more shocked than Soma had, he swiftly closed the door and stood there dumbfounded for a moment. It looked as though the Manager had to wrap his mind around what he was looking at. "Sebastian, who did this?" The use of his first name made the chef jump a little, yet he didn't reply. Soma's hands were tender as he slowly dabbed the damp cloth on Sebastian's chest. He put the stopper in the sink and continued to rinse the towel, it was tinting the water red as he attempted to clean the wounds. "It's a good thing Grell isn't here, he would go nuts," commented Agni, as he watched Soma tend to Sebastian.

"Sebastian, why don't you join us for dinner, I made a batch of curry and we could dress your wounds there," Agni said after a moment. His pale blue eyes never left Sebastian's chest as he said this. Clearly he wasn't comfortable, Sebastian drew a deep breath and nodded. "Good, put your jacket on," he said smoothly, "is your bagged packed?" he asked. There was a pause, Sebastian hadn't finished cleaning his station, Claude would be furious. "No," he replied softly, he was slightly ashamed to have not done so. "Soma, I'm going to collect his bag," Agni stated, "Help him get dressed." Soma simply nodded and continued to tend to Sebastian. Perhaps there were people out there who would help him. Or at least take some of the pain away.

~~xXx~~

Claude was panting he had tried everything to find Sebastian, his eyes fell on his messy tools. Naturally he was concerned, he had just found blood on the floor which he believed to belong to Sebastian. Why he hadn't noticed this earlier eluded him, he should have noticed that the man was bleeding. He gently picked up Sebastian's pastry edge and noticed the thick dough crusted on it. His gaze softened as he gently placed it along with a number of other items in a bowl and carried it to the sink. "It will get ruined if it stays this way," he sighed as he turned on the hot water and began to diligently clean each tool. They had all been washed and kept well, his eyes flitted over the brands, he didn't recognize half of them. As he gently removed the remnants of magic that seemed to be clinging to the tools he realized he was handling Sebastian's most precious possession.

It was as though he could feel the chef's emotions through these tools which he had used to craft pastries. He paused as his fingers swept over the wooden handle of a whisk, he could tell it was well used he couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the simple tools Sebastian used to craft such magical treats. How Sebastian's hands caressed and gripped each one, the sheer beauty of his movements which had enchanted him the first time they met. "These are used to help you express your hopes and dreams. They allow another person to look into the soul through your food," he commented as he slowly placed each instrument in the drain. Claude's fingers plucked a tooth pick from a box which was in Sebastian's bag, and he began to clean the icing tips. "I wonder what has harmed you," he whispered as he finished cleaning the icing out of several tips.

"Why you are so lifeless," he muttered as he placed the tips on a towel and finished washing a different edge. "Talk to me," he whispered as he looked at the tools, "I know you're not your owner, but he's in pain and I can't stand seeing him hurt." He sighed after realizing he was talking to a bunch of tools. He would never hear a reply from them, it was impossible. A towel ghosted over them as he dried them, they sparkled in the light as he did so. He could remember the first time he had washed his knives, he had slipped the whisk in the bag and placed the rest of the tips in their case. He remembered the order Sebastian had them in and made sure to put them back that way. He lifted the pastry edge and looked at his reflection in it, violet hair, slanted amber eyes, sharp features and a square chin. All features which women went gaga for, yet seemed to scare most men. He wondered if this was the face Sebastian saw, the face of the man who fought to have him work there just to watch him bake. "I wonder if he has realized it," he muttered before slipping the edge in the black bag and zipping it closed.

Once sealed he placed it on the table and pulled a blank order sheet out of his pocket. He chuckled as he tapped a pen on the counter and wrote a note, he didn't intend to leave quite yet, but he had a few things in his office to attend to. He placed the note on the bag and wandered back into his office. About twenty minutes later he heard the kitchen doors open. His eyes widened with anticipation as he looked in their direction, he honestly hoped that Sebastian would be the one to walk through them. Only to see Agni enter, his heart fell a little, "Faustus?" called the Indian cautiously. Claude watched the man nervously, of course he was afraid of being in the kitchen, he was a demon in their eyes.

"This must be his," said Agni as he picked up Sebastian's bag. He paused when he saw the note and picked it up. Agni looked confused as he pocketed the sheet of paper and left the kitchen. Of course he was confused and Claude doubted that Sebastian would ever see the note. Perhaps it was better that he didn't at this point, it would make this easier.

* * *

_Thank you AnetteRuby for pointing out the mistakes in the last chapter! I ran out of room in the top section... I need to work on that. Feel free to point them out it helps. _

_KDM._


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: Warning the following chapter contains nudity and suggestive themes. _

* * *

**Chapter 10: Dessert 5: The Signature of a City**

The apartment was filled with warm and exotic spices which tickled the nose and palate of any chef who walked by. Decked with traditional indian furniture and decor it was clear that both Agni and Soma had lived in London for a great deal of time. Burgundy eyes looked around curiously, they had a beautiful place high above the streets with a number of windows and it was open. "Please take your shoes off," said Soma sweetly as he slipped out of his slippers and began to walk through the house barefoot. Sebastian noticed the warm colors and vibrant fabrics which had been used. It made him stare in awe as he walked into a world of intense color. "I grew up in India, we moved to London when Agni decided he wanted to open a curry shop," explained Soma as he came out of the bathroom with a white box in hand.

He gestured for Sebastian to take a seat on one of the large pillows which was sitting on the floor. Sebastian had been to Bazaars and Curry houses before, however none of them were this authentic. He slowly sank to the floor and felt the plush pillow cradle him, it was far softer than he had anticipated. It provided support, and he smiled as he crossed his legs, he hadn't simply sat on a pillow in a while. Soma smiled as he watched Sebastian look around the room, "So colorful," whispered Sebastian with wonder. Lau's exhibit had been filled with vibrant colors however these were beyond that. Their lives were filled with so much warmth and light it was pleasant to simply sit there. Soma reached for the hem of Sebastian's shirt and smiled before peeling it off of the man, "Okay let's take care of these!" chirped Soma as he opened the box and pulled a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls. It stung slightly as he felt each plush cloud that had been dipped in the vile liquid touch his skin. He hissed with discomfort and Soma looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry Sebastian, but it needs to be cleaned," he stated, his hands continued to work as Sebastian's eyes wandered about the room. There was a beautiful golden statue of Shiva and Vishnu, the only reason he recognized it was from a small Indian place he used to go to in Paris. It was small and the food was good. The smell of familiar spices swept through the room like a welcome spring breeze, pushing the stale smell of rubbing alcohol and the metallic scent of his blood out. He smiled as he smelt coriander and lobster being added, it was a wonderful and heart warming scent. "Smells wonderful," Sebastian said slowly as a smile swept across his face. It had been a long time since he had warm food in a warm house with welcoming people. "You know, Claude did this interview once," commented Agni as he walked in with three white bowls in hand.

They were simple but told so much about how they saw food as the main part and that the plate shouldn't matter. Sebastian admired chefs like this and began to wonder both what Claude had said and why Agni didn't own his own curry shop. "Usually I don't bother reading those things, I skim them to know just what the other customers will ask or say when the book a table in advance," he confessed, "But there was this one thing he said that made total sense." Agni placed the three bowls on the table and took a seat on the other side of Sebastian, he got several gauze ready and tape.

"When a chef creates a dish, he is putting out part of his heart and soul for other to taste. His emotions and dreams are put to the test as you place his creation in your mouth," Soma continued, Sebastian was frozen he didn't think Claude had a cooking philosophy, he seemed to simply take command of the kitchen, never once did he think to ask. "When tasted you can see how the chef feels, if they are in pain or not, essentially you can taste their soul. You can taste it because it's part of their food. Ingredients are just ingredients until someone comes along and makes them into something more." Soma hummed once he said that and Sebastian felt as though he knew nothing of the Head Chef. His philosophy was different and yet, there was something familiar about it. The last line reminded him of something someone wrote on a comment card back at La Cordon Bleu after watching his demo.

He had been asked to show others how to craft a Cheesecake, which wasn't easy in France. The essential ingredient was missing, cream cheese, it took some clever improvisation on his part to find just the thing to replace the essential element. He could remember how he had used Ricotta which shocked a number of chefs. It was just as sweet and produced the same product, but different. A number of students and professors were irritated and criticized him as he crafted the desert. Sebastian could remember how they looked at him as though he had gone mad. After he had released the cake from it's spring pan, very few tried it. He was slightly depressed and simply abandoned the cake to go and wash his tools. Cheesecake filling had a habit of getting crusty and sticking to nearly everything if it sat too long. When he returned the cake was gone which few had touched. Resting in it's place was a note the size of a 7.6x12.7 cm_(1)_ recipe card with beautiful purple ink on it. The loops of the script were small and beautiful to look at. He could only imagine what that chef's recipe cards looked like.

"_Les ingrédients sont juste des ingrédients, jusqu'à ce que quelqu'un arrive et les transforme en quelque chose de plus. C'était merveilleux, ma seule suggestion est d'utiliser moins de l'Amaretto, il était trop fort pour moi. ~CF" (2)_

Sebastian paused, CF the same initials as the Head Chef, he hadn't noticed before. "Soma, do you know which school he went to?" asked Sebastian after a moment. He doubted they were the same person, it could have all been coincidence, however something told him this time it wasn't. Soma looked at him and blinked in confusion, "The CIA, Culinary Institute of America, in New York," replied Agni. The raven haired chef felt his heart sank, he never did have the chance to thank that person. It was because of him that he altered the recipe and made it just a little sweeter with less of an almond taste. He sighed and looked at them, "Something wrong?" asked Soma in a panic. Sebastian chuckled and held up his hands, "Oh no, nothing, I just thought I'd heard that somewhere before, now I know it was a coincidence," he responded.

"You know cheer up, you have us!" Soma chirped with a grin. Sebastian froze and looked at the pair, he was confused he wasn't aware that there were other people who enjoyed his work. "We are rooting for you, after all you've made customers smile again! I like seeing happy people leave," Soma replied happily, it was clear this young man simply wanted others to be happy. Sebastian reached out and grabbed the bowl of curry, it was warm to the touch much like Soma's personality. Warm like the Indian sun, and vibrant like their lives. He took a spoonful of the bright orange liquid with chunks of goat in it and hummed with approval. Their spices ticked his tongue and made him feel more alive than he had in awhile. Soma had finished cleaning his wounds and Agni pulled a tin of cream out of the box. "This will help soothe the pain and make them heal cleanly," he stated. He slipped on a glove and swiped some cream out of the tin, it was cold to the touch, but numbed the pain. "Thank you, for doing this," said Sebastian as Angi swiped down one of the welts. "Not a problem," replied Agni as he pulled more cream from the tin.

"Why don't you have a curry shop?" asked Sebastian after a moment. Agni blinked and looked up at him with rather confused blue-gray eyes. He paused, it looked as though he were trying to compose what he intended to say. "Well, when I got here there were a great number of shops and I lost confidence in my skill as a chef when I tasted another's curry," replied Agni honestly, "I was famous in India, however here it was very different. They cared about presentation where I only cared about taste."

That was a common issue with chefs, many had forgotten that food used all the senses and often didn't want to recognize that. The fact that cuisine was just as visual as it was the taste was a trap which, many chefs fell into. He could remember being yelled at for going overboard and forgetting about the general taste of his dish. Some chefs focused so much on the look that they forgot about the taste. It took years to finally understand and do well in both areas.

Sebastian placed the bowl on the table and lifted his arms so Agni could wrap the tape around his chest. Soma held the gauze in place lightly as the taller of the two deftly wrapped his injury. There was one thing on his mind, and that was what he was going to make the Undertaker. He couldn't afford to be another victim of his, thrown into a casket far too early and hoisted into a grave in which no restaurant owner would touch. It had to be something unexpected, yet appealing, something sophisticated, yet warm.

~~xXx~~

The crimson flower on the linen handkerchief, it was as vibrant and painful as the person's whose eyes it belonged to. Ciel hummed as he walked through his flat, he hadn't expected this. Sebastian seemed like the perfect chef, always three steps ahead and diligently working to please him. There was too much blood on the cloth for it to be simply a cut on his finger. He hadn't seen a bandage either, which would be a tell tale sign that he had been cut. His footsteps fell anxiously as he paced, usually he wouldn't care, however Sebastian was his golden goose. If there was something wrong he needed to know about it, he couldn't' afford to lose the man who was boosting his popularity.

He continued to walk a line with the handkerchief in hand, Sebastian didn't seem like the type to lie. He had been honest that day of the interview, too honest and rather frank, which irritated Ciel. Yet, now he retreated and acted as though Ciel was going to kill him. It was unsettling to see the chef look so afraid. He wasn't a fool, he knew Sebastian was hiding something, he just couldn't figure out what.

"Ciel?" asked a soft and sweet voice, it was light and sounded like a bird singing. The slate haired young man turned to see Lizzy leaning in the doorway, she was wrapped in one of his midnight blue sheets, her hair was a mess and her emerald eyes glowed with mischief. A grin curved his lips, he knew very well that there was nothing under that silk sheet. His sapphire eyes skated over her rather large bust, trim waist and wide hips. She was the ideal woman to have hanging off his arm, sculpted, charming, and ever so beautiful. He could see those smooth, long white legs he had spread hours before through a gap in the sheet. "Yes Lizzy?" asked Ciel with a smile, he was simply in sweatpants, he didn't bother with the shirt. He had a feeling they would just take it off again. "You left the bed," she whined as she walked toward him, he stared at her delicious pale skin as she moved. He could see several hickeys that he had left in his wake. "I was thinking," he replied.

It was difficult to believe that this woman had been the flat chested, boisterous, energetic and girly, 12 year old Elizabeth. She certainly didn't look it anymore. "About?" she asked inquisitively as she tilted her head to the side and looked at him with bright emerald eyes. He took a seat on one of the arms of his chair and indicated for her to come over. "Work," he admitted, she usually got irritated with him when he thought about work. In her eyes it was all he ever thought about. "Oh," she mumbled as she looked down at him, she was just out of his reach. "Jealous?" asked Ciel smugly as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him. Elizabeth blushed, "About?" she asked as she looked away. Ciel hummed and grinned widely, "_The other woman_," he said teasingly. Lizzy stiffened and sat up, the sheet fell from her body, exposing her from the waist up. "Ciel Phantomhive, that is not funny! I don't want to compete with your work!" she stated and crossed her arms.

Ciel tipped his head to the side, "Oh?" he asked as he looped his arms around her waist. "I don't, I want to be more important," she pouted. Ciel looked up at her with a grin, of course she did. He couldn't tell her that he didn't care for her the ways she desired him to, that he could never give her that. He did care, however he loved the sex which came with her. "I see," he commented as he kissed her neck, she was straddling his waist which, made this even more enjoyable. "Then show me," he whispered before crashing into her lips.

~~xXx~~

Soma and Agni had helped Sebastian a great deal, he didn't expect the pair to be so kind. He had witnessed something intimate earlier, and figured they would be angry or more guarded around him. This didn't seem to be the case, in fact they were pleasant and gentle. He felt a little guilty for thinking that they would not be, they were kind. He sighed and wondered what kindness tasted like, he could remember the _Pets de Nonne_ from his childhood. It was a flavor he would always remember, he paused and looked in the windows of one of the shops.

"Memories, are what makes food special. Add a little magic and then you have a pastry," he whispered. He was slightly upset that he had forgotten his own view on the matter. He needed to know where the Undertaker was from, he had heard the man was ruthless however there had to be something he held near and dear to his heart. A dish which would reach his soul. The only questions that remained were, where was he from and what could he make to remind him of his roots.

Sebastian slipped his hands into his pockets, his knife bag was over his shoulder and continued to walk down the sidewalk. He was happy that Agni had grabbed his knife bag, he couldn't risk running into Claude again. That would have ended poorly, he didn't want the chef to see his wounds, he didn't want pity. The Indian had handed them to him and reached for something in his pocket, only to take his hand out again. Sebastian vaguely wondered what it was, it must have not been important for Agni to not give it to him. Otherwise, he would have had it in his hands before the knife bag. That seemed to be how he functioned, he smiled as he looked up at the sky, for once there weren't' clouds in it. He could finally see the moon.

"Now if only I could sleep," he muttered as he turned the corner and walked over to his apartment building. Ideas of what to make still jumped around in his head as he climbed the stairs, "This is going to be a long night," he whispered. Details were buzzing around in his head like flies as he attempted to figure out just what Ciel was expecting him to do. Claude's words from the interview made him understand what cuisine meant to him. Once in the apartment he looked around nervously for any sign that Angela had been there. He couldn't afford another beating it was bad enough she had injured him to the point that it was difficult to move and work. The bright red Linus Roadster leaned against the wall as he looked over the few possessions he had in his room. It was simple and hardly furnished, a stack of cookbooks rested in the corner, there were a few notebooks mixed in. His clothing had made its way to the small chest of drawers he had purchased from a thrift shop, it wasn't the prettiest thing but it served its purpose. There was just one thing he would never tuck in it, he hummed as he slowly walked over to an old steamer trunk he had used in college. It was a gift from one of the nuns, it was covered in a number of old stickers, he gently touched the yellowed emblems with the tips of his fingers.

"Sister Amalie," Sebastian whispered as he slowly touched the trunk, the only other person he ever baked for. He smiled sadly as he looked at the stickers from Cairo, Bangladesh, Hong Kong, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, Berlin and other places he had never been. It was an heirloom, however the Nun couldn't have children, she was in an accident as a child, and the doctors told her she could never have one of her own. She was ordained at the age of 20 and worked at the orphanage he had been dropped off at. She was perhaps one of the sweeter memories of his childhood. The smiling ginger haired nun, she had started work at the Orphanage three days before he had arrived. He could remember the magic of her smile and rhymes, her gentle touch when she patched him up after he had fallen out of a tree.

She left the orphanage when she was 29, to take care of her sick sister, Sebastian was 15 years old. Yet another person slipped from between his fingers. Before leaving she handed Sebastian a letter, simply asking for the nuns to do two things. The first was to give him her trunk with it's contents and the second was to allow him to continue studying under the baker in town. Her trunk was perhaps one of his most precious possessions, second to the pastry tools he had gotten as a gift from the baker who taught him. He never heard from her again, and oddly he was okay with that.

Sebastian's fingers hovered over the latches before he popped them. Nestled inside were some old letters and two cookbooks he couldn't live without. Some old pages and sheets which he had scratched notes on the sides of. Resting on top was a black box with a familiar navy blue ribbon. He pulled the box and gently pulled the ribbon. Nestled in paper was the one jacket he was the proudest to own, his culinary jacket from _La Cordon Bleu_ resting inside, it was still a pristine white with bright blue accents. He was top of his class and he admired the logo on the chest, he was going to wear it again.

He sat on the floor and looked at the school's crest and attempted to figure out what he was going to make. Seconds became hours and before he realized it the sun had risen and the moon was gone from view. He had a number of pastries in mind, yet none of them seemed like the one. He groaned and tugged on his hair until he reached in the pocket of the white chef's coat, the note was still there. He had carried with it him through college as a charm. "I think I know what to make," he whispered with a smile as he quickly got changed and slipped into the white coat, he wouldn't be able to take his bike, he would risk opening his rounds if he attempted to carry it again. Today, Sebastian was going to walk to work and think of just how he was going to do this, there were two ways to prepare the dish. One which was predictable and one which was not. Part of him wanted to ask Claude, yet he had a feeling he wouldn't listen. He wasn't a pastry chef, Sebastian was. He looked up at the sky and hummed, "The sun is out and not a cloud in the sky, I suppose I can't ask the rain to wash me away now," he muttered before continuing down the street.

~~xXx~~

The Undertaker hummed as he looked around the kitchen, "My my, Ciel I see you upgraded," he commented. His voice was harsh like nails on a chalkboard and he was decked in black. Claude looked up and stared at the man who now entered, he was fortunate to have received a good review from him. His slimming black pants made him seem taller than he really was, he had long white hair which glistened silver in the light. His bangs hid his eyes and he had rather long black nails. A black shirt covered his rather muscular body as he walked over to them, with the poise of a tiger. He chuckled as he looked at Claude and smiled broadly, "Faustus you look as though I'm going to evaluate you," he commented. His cackling irritated the Head Chef, "It's been a while," he commented.

The Undertaker sighed and straightened up, "Far too long, you still cook rather well for your age," he commented. Claude knew this was the closest thing he would ever get to a compliment. His eyes followed the row of lockets, which hung from a belt loop and ended in one of his pockets. A frayed light gray scarf hung around his neck, at a glance this man didn't seem like the Grim Reaper he was known as in the realm of the chef. However he knew better, "Thank you, it's nice to see you can still hold a pen," replied Claude acridly. Ciel shot Claude a warning glare, it was no secret Claude and the man butt heads from time to time. The man cackled with glee and looked at the chef, "Do you still have that pet spider?" he asked in an attempt to make small talk.

Claude hummed and crossed his arms, "Yes, I bought another one as well," he stated. The Undertaker hummed and nodded, "I see, you should spend more time with your kind," he commented before pulling a dog biscuit from his jacket pocket. Claude could see the brown paper which lined it and watched at the man snapped the biscuit and chewed it. The crunch echoed through the room, it was a rather unnerving sound. Claude felt a slight wave of concern he hadn't seen Sebastian come in, he could see the question in Ciel's eyes and he shook his head. He prayed for Sebastian's sake he didn't run, Ciel would kill him and the Undertaker would take it out on Ciel. It was bad enough that both Alois and Vincent had also come to see how this would go. The Undertaker was cruel and it was quite clear that Vincent wanted to see how this chef would fare.

"So where is this chef who had me served soulless food?" asked the Undertaker with glee, "Perhaps I should craft him his own coffin, so that when he falls I can bury him in it." Claude closed his eyes and silently prayed that somehow Sebastian had pulled himself together. He was about to state that Sebastian was nowhere to be found only to see a flash of white in the back of the kitchen and smell the familiar scent of fresh graham crackers. The hint of ginger and assorted spices wafted from the corner which Sebastian usually occupied. His eyes widened as he turned to see the raven haired chef standing in the pristine which jacket. His sleeves were rolled up and he wore the white hat with a blue hand around the rim. "An early start, interesting," mused the Undertaker as he walked to the back of the kitchen. His eyes never left the chef as he approached, and Claude snapped his fingers signalling Ronald to bring a chair for not only the critic but also Ciel, Alois, Vincent and himself. Thompson and company brought three stools as Ronald carried in one for the Undertaker.

The silver haired critic took a seat, his eyes were glued to Sebastian's hands as he snapped the graham crackers. "I remember you," said the Undertaker with a grin. Sebastian paused and looked up, there was a hint of shock in his eyes. "You, the one who gave me the scholarship," he whispered. The Undertaker smiled, he had assisted in funding the rest of the chef's education which meant he could be even harsher than the rest of the critics. Claude noticed a spark had returned to those burgundy eyes, "It's nice to see you again," said Sebastian with a flirtatious smile. The golden eyed chef stared in confusion, this wasn't the same man who was in his kitchen last night. He was different, confident and had a plan, now what it was concerned Claude. "How was New York?" asked Sebastian smoothly.

There was a pause as the chef went back to work on the crumbs, "Dryer, but otherwise the same. Plenty of chefs disappointing me," he remarked as he grinned manicically. Sebastian hummed and nodded before pulling two glass bowls and a spatula, Claude stared at the fresh crackers which were now cool and cold, he had no idea what this man was making and it scared him. Sebastian pulled a rather large clear bowl and a strainer before picking up a plastic tub. The Undertaker adjusted his position and his wide grin was gone as he watched the chef open the tub. Sebastian held the strainer in one hand and container in the other. He picked it up and tipped the tub, white chunky ricotta cheese fell into the strainer, and Claude watched the milky white whey fall from the fine netting of the strainer. The chunks rested inside of it as he tapped the whey out of it, Claude stared in confusion.

French cuisine didn't use ricotta, Italian did. His eyes narrowed as he watched Sebastian gracefully sift the rest of the whey out and moved the now drained ricotta into the second bowl. The Undertaker was still as he watched the chef turn on his heel and walk over to the walk in to grab a few sticks of butter. As he walked by an oven he twisted the knob to turn the oven up to temperature. His movements were smooth and elegant to watch, they all seemed vaguely familiar, dream like. "Deja Vu," Claude whispered. The Undertaker looked up curiously at Claude and then back to the chef who was grabbing a rather normal looking metal pan, with a pot for the stove and the butter.

The raven haired chef placed the pan off to the side and then set the butter on the silver scale, once the weight to his satisfaction he unwrapped the butter and slipped it into the pot. Time seemed to stop as the skilled fingers of the chef melted the butter and placed the pot on the glass cutting board beside the metal pan and a bowl of broken graham crackers. He smiled as lined the bottom and added the melted butter to the bottom of the pan. "Cheesecake?" asked Claude after a moment. His eyes widened as he watched the chef pop the now graham cracker coated pan in the oven for a moment and turned his attention to the filling. The silver whisk glistened in the light and Sebastian's eyes fluttered closed as he cradled the bowl in one hand and beat the ricotta into submission. The chunks slowly smoothed into a velvet like texture and then something which looked as smooth as silk. His technique was flawless and there was something else in the air as he gently placed the bowl on the table and began to add a hint a vanilla, egg yolks which he had separated with ease from the whites The smell of vanilla danced in the air as Sebastian worked the filling, spoonful by spoonful he sweetened the mixture with sugar until he decided it was enough.

The timer tinged in the distance summoning the chef to the other side of the room, he left the mixture and pulled the spring pan with a towel. Sebastian placed it on the counter and grabbed yet another bowl, in reality all he had to do was pour the mixture into the pan, what he was doing now was even more confusing. The Undertaker's mouth popped open to question only to close as he watched Sebastian slip a quarter of the bowl out of the larger one and place it in the small one. "I forgot something very important, well two things," he commented as he walked over to the walk in and grabbed a small glass bowl which was covered with cellophane and a carton which Claude recognized a mile away.

He felt his heart skip a beat, Sebastian did get his note, a smile curved his lips. The man was replying to him, a desert which spelled warmth. Sebastian added a touch of amaretto to the filling, the room smelled of almonds, vanilla and the sweet mixture. Ciel's eyes closed and he hummed with pleasure as he smelt the explosion of flavor. It was tantalizing, and Claude could see Vincent nearly drooling for the treat. Claude stared at the bowl which hadn't been touched, Sebastian unwrapped it and slipped the sweet-smelling liquid into the smaller bowl, cherries. He paused as the chef blended the flavors together, turning the once white base into a light red one. He looked at Claude and asked, "You wouldn't happen to have a knife would you?"

The Head Chef blinked and asked, "Why would you ask if I was carrying one?" Sebastian set the bowl down and replied, "Because you carry forks and spoons in your pockets I figured you would have a knife as well," he commented. A chuckle left Ronald, that was preposterous, he sighed and slipped his hands into his pockets to pull a golden butter knife, "Will this do?" he asked as he held it up. Sebastian nodded and chuckled, "Yup, nicely," he responded as he held his hand out for the golden implement. He flipped it in his hand so he was holding the sharp end and held the handle out to Sebastian. Slender white fingers wrapped around the other end and Sebastian flashed him a sure smile. He looked confident and comfortable. Claude released the cold metal tool and watched as Sebastian added the beautiful red colored filling to the top and used the knife to put in the swirl. He looked like a painter with a brush as he finished and slipped the pan into the oven and set a time.

"Well your skills are impressive, however I didn't plan on spending an hour waiting," commented the Undertaker gruffly. There was a pause and Claude stared, there was a glint of mischief in Sebastian's eyes as a smirk of confidence formed on his lips. His eyes danced as he walked over to the side and picked up a glass dome. He placed it on the table and lifted it to show the cake beneath it. Claude stared at him and wondered just when Sebastian had made it. Thompson walked over carrying a small stack of plates with the cutter and placed them before Sebastian. "I had a feeling you would say that," Sebastian commented. The blade dipped as he sliced in the cake, "They are identical, I made this one an hour before," he replied as he made the second cut and then popped it out of cake. The wedge was layered with crimson red squirrels and white, the crumbs stuck to the bottom and were lightly browned.

Sebastian leaned over the table and placed the slice before the Undertaker and continued slicing pieces for Vincent, Ciel, Claude and Alois.

~~xXx~~

The Undertaker stared at the wedge before him, the chef's skill was far above what he had anticipated. He had seen Sebastian when he was a child baking when he reviewed his first master's bakery. A talented youngster with wide eyes and a keen palate. He could remember when Amalie had asked him to assist in funding Sebastian's schooling. At first he was going to refuse until he tasted the dark chocolate orange spice cake he had named after the nun. There was no doubt that he would go places, however, he never expected to see the chef again and in London of all places. This time he had crafted a cheesecake, he slowly picked up a fork and cut into the tip. He had tasted failed cheesecakes even in the city which was known for them and now here was the raven haired chef who had substituted cream cheese with ricotta.

He slowly slipped the fork between his lips and paused, the ricotta gave it a slightly different texture, however it wasn't regrettable, it helped the amaretto. The taste of tart graham crackers and almonds danced on his tongue. Cherries brightened the taste and pulled the nuttiness out of the subtle sweetness of the ricotta. He hummed as he slowly chewed, it was as though he were a child again in Little Italy, down in New York City. The smell of the bakeries and the taste of their rustic charm, and yet there was this undisputable french flare, the cherries were clearly filled with French influence since they had been pureed and mixed into the filling and not as a jelly.

The Undertaker slipped out of his lips and looked at the cake tenderly, he hastily took another bite and purred. His pen was still in his pocket and the page was blank as he dug in, the texture was fluffy and light and there was this indisputable warmth, kindness and love. Three things which had been missing from Amalie yet in this cheesecake. He looked out of the corner of his eyes and watched the warm smile on Claude's lips, it was small but there. He hadn't even taken a bite and yet he looked at it as though it were a fond memory.

The Undertaker finished the piece and looked at Sebastian who was waiting patiently for judgement. He swept his bangs up and smiled, his green eyes looked at the chef and the scar which had split his face from a car accident was far more pronounced. He knew his face frightened many, yet he had to look at the chef before him clearly. To take in the image of the man he had become, "Thank you," said the Undertaker honestly, "Thank you for the wonderful treat." He rose from his seat and looked at the chef, and then to Ciel and Vincent. "You have a wonderful Pâtissier, don't let him go," he stated. Vincent had finished the wedge and Ciel was licking his fork happily. The pair nodded enthusiastically before Vincent placed the plate on the counter and commented, "Allow me to walk out an old friend." The Undertaker smiled and followed Vincent out of the kitchen.

~~xXx~~

"So good! You're amazing Sebastian!" chirped Alois, "This would go so well with a Baileys cocktail!" Claude hummed as he took another bite, the Amaretto was a nice accent to the cherry and seemed to tie all the flavors together, complimenting them and teasing them. "You know what, I think this should be a regular thing," said Alois happily. Ciel blinked and stared at Alois, this was when everyone in the room knew that food wasn't really Alois' thing. Claude sighed and rubbed his temples, he had tried for years to explain that Cheesecakes go to New York and that there is an Italian version. "It's Italian, it wouldn't be right to serve it in a French restaurant," commented Ciel. Alois crossed his arms and sighed, "I know that, but it was good," he remarked, he was rather cross.

Sebastian smiled a little as he began to scrape the bowl and went to begin washing his utensils. "Wait, isn't cheesecake made with cream cheese?" asked Alois. There was a pause, it was as though Alois' brain had finally turned on, and everyone stared at him open-mouthed. "What?" he asked curiously and shrugged, "Why do people always look at me when I ask things like that?" Sebastian shook his head that smug and delighted grin had returned, as did the playful gleam in them. It was comforting to see had returned.

"Usually it is made with cream cheese, Philadelphia Cream Cheese to be exact according to Americans. However, the essential ingredient, cream cheese isn't made in France," Sebastian explained as he began to soak the mixing bowl, "Ironically it is one of the only cheese the French don't make, so a substitute is in order to get the filling close enough to a traditional New York Style Cheese Cake." Claude noticed how Alois actually looked interest for once, he could never get Alois interested in real food, then again he usually screamed at him. The fact that Sebastian wasn't calling him a moron every three seconds like Claude did was probably what sparked the interest. His golden eyes shifted to Ciel, even he looked interested. "So we use Ricotta which has a similar fat content, the only thing that you have to make sure you do is strain the whey," commented Sebastian as he lifted the bow of the murky liquid and carried it over to the sink.

"Whey?" asked Ciel after a moment, he didn't know the term, then again he also didn't venture into the kitchen often. It was rather ironic since he owned the place. "The liquid I strained out is called whey, it's filled with fats and salts from the maturing process," Sebastian explained. There was a hint of finality in his reply which was more than enough of a cue for the two to get up and go back to the front of the house.

~~xXx~~

Agni sifted through his pockets looking for his punch card only to find the note from Claude. He slowly unfolded it and sighed. He wanted to know what it said, it had been written in both French and Claude's hand writing. Agni didn't want Sebastian to be near Claude, not after what had happened with Ash, the previous pastry chef, before this. For both Sebastian and Claude's sake. He looked at the tight script as he typed it into a translator.

"_Les ingrédients sont juste des ingrédients, jusqu'à ce qu'ils soient combinés par quelqu'un en quelque chose de plus. Souvenirs, la passion, et une touche de magie est tout ce qu'il faut pour élaborer un vrai régal. Bonne chance. ~ CF"_

Agni was about to hit translate when he decided he wanted to know what the original sounded like, even if it was broken and synthetic . He pressed the speaker in the corner and the sound erupted in the room, he had no idea what the words meant but they sounded so passionate, beautiful and tender, even in a synthetic and cold voice. He pressed the translate button and stared at the screen.

"_Ingredients are just ingredients, until they are combined by someone into something more. Memories, passion, and a touch of magic is all it takes to craft a wonderful treat. Good luck. ~CF"_

He read the note aloud, it sounded beautiful, even in English. Claude had used the same line from the interview, the one which Sebastian recognized, part of him began to wonder just what was going on between the Head Chef and the Pastry Chef. There was no way it was a coincidence, even if Sebastian thought it was. Soma knocked on his office door and commented, "Agni! Sebastian just made an amazing cheese cake! Come and try a piece!" Blue eyes looked up as he closed the window and shoved the note in his desk, "Sounds great!" he replied enthusiastically. The note could stay there until he spoke to Claude and figured out what was going on. Ciel may have been the owner, but if there was something going on between Sebastian and Claude, it could cause friction. Which would reflect poorly on him.

* * *

**Translations:**

1.) The metric measurements of a 5x7 inch index card.

2.) "Ingredients are just ingredients, until someone comes along and turns them into something more. It was wonderful, my only suggestion is to use less of the Amaretto, it was a too strong for me. ~CF"

_**Please note that the other paragraph is directly translated in the story and isn't here because of this. I hope I didn't confuse you.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: I want to thank all of you for being so patient. I started training for my new job recently, I'm working in a deli, it's not glorious but the pay is good and I happen to enjoy it. Don't worry I double as a baker too! Now if anyone knows a candlestick maker I think I'm set. I already met the butcher. Anyway, until I master my schedule expect to see updates a little sporadic. I'm still getting the hang of the slicer, which is way too much fun.__._

_I hope you enjoy the sweets, treats and drama. _

* * *

**Chapter 11: Confrontation and Confections**

Sebastian sighed with relief after the Undertaker, Vincent, Alois and Ciel had left. The only one left in the room with him was Claude. Those golden eyes were still locked on him, the entire time he had crafted the cheese cake they followed his hands. He could feel it, it was primal yet reassuring, those golden eyes which were slowly peaking at him through the darkness. He could tell Claude wasn't pleased with him, he had done well with the Undertaker. After all, he had managed to prevent _Ciel_ from losing a star. Yet, that didn't soothe his own nerves. Angela was out for blood, and if he didn't get the money soon enough, she would do something so drastic that it couldn't be undone.

Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, his hands flattened out on the counter as another surge of pain went through him. He had to get the white coat off before the blood that was slowly tinting the bandages under his skin began to show. Money, it always came down to money, regardless of what he did someone was always looking for a payout. In reality Ciel was no better than Angela, he was merchandise, something which could be traded and sold easily. In reality if Ciel wanted he could throw Sebastian out, and simply look for another chef. Sebastian whimpered after a moment, his head felt heavy, and he had ached all over since that morning. When he had first woken up he thought it was because he had another nightmare involving Angela beating him.

He wasn't sure which was worse, Angela or Francis. Both hurt, and both scared him. He sighed and lifted his head, there was only one thing he knew he had to do now, and that was bake. He had to fool the others into thinking he was okay, he couldn't lose his job, he couldn't afford to lose the people who cared about him, and he couldn't handle those golden eyes looking down on him with contempt. "I'm alright, I'm still here," he whispered before pulling a chocolate bar and a knife. It was time to make _Amalie_, perhaps she could ease some of the pain like she had when he was a child.

~~xXx~~

Claude was still as he looked at Sebastian, his eyes never left the man, he had to know what was going on. He was still concerned, something wasn't quite right, and he knew it. As soon as Vincent, Ciel, Alois and the Undertaker had left there was something in his eyes which, made Claude even more nervous, worry. The other chefs were busy preparing for the evening, and he noticed how pale Sebastian was. The pastry chef pulled out a knife and began to cut chocolate, Claude was about to say something when he was called away again.

The blood tinted napkin felt as though it weighed a ton in his pocket, slowly dragging him down to the earth. Normally he wouldn't approach a chef about their personal life, but Sebastian was beginning to scare him. Earlier he would have said the man had returned to his former self, the same flirtatious smile and glint of mischief as he spoke of his work. However, watching him now was another story. He certainly wasn't soulless, he was fearful, dread and worry seemed to emanate off of him.

Part of him hoped that there would be few dessert orders for the evening, Sebastian looked as though he had been through hell. Claude shook his head and sighed, that wasn't right Sebastian was in hell with a pearly exterior. There was no denying the demands of Ciel or even thinking that he could. He had survived the Undertaker, yet there was still more to come. Knowing Ciel, the young man was planning something extravagant to showcase his entire staff. He hummed as he looked up at the clock, the night was coming quickly.

~~xXx~~

Ronald glided across the floor and smiled as he took the order of yet another guest, _Ciel_ was packed. It was a beautiful sight to see the floor full of hungry and dazzled customers. In the back the only concern seemed to be Sebastian, however, the orders for dessert didn't let up. They continued to fall on top of the chef who was currently floundering in the back. He was on his way back to the kitchen when he felt a light touch on his arm. "Excuse me," said a soft and rather beautiful voice, it was shrouded in lavender and musk.

Ronald stiffened, he was never one for perfume he found it to be irritating how much women put on. His green eyes fell on a woman dressed in a tight white leather bodice, which did nothing to hide her assets. She wore a pair of form-fitting trousers and high heels. Her violet eyes were bright, and he noticed how her hair was clasped behind her head. "Yes?" asked Ronald hesitantly, he didn't need to get busted for flirting with a guest. That would end poorly. "I'm looking for the owner, Ciel Phantomhive," she said with a sensual air.

Ronald noticed how her lips curved in a smile, there was something unnerving about this woman, he just couldn't figure it out. "Did you ask the front desk?" he asked after a moment. The woman hummed and replied with a hint of defeat, "Soma told me to speak to you," she commented. Ronald could feel glances on him, he had to get those orders to the kitchen he didn't have time for this, "Wait by the bar, if you told Soma that you are looking for Ciel changes are he will meet you here eventually," he stated before turning and heading back to work.

He could feel her eyes bore into his back which irritated him a little. He pushed open one of the doors and entered the kitchen, "Order up!" shouted Claude. Ronald would usually grab the order, but decided he needed to know this now. As unprofessional as it sounded, he felt uncomfortable with that woman on the floor. She looked at him as though he were something to sell. "Claude, does Ceil know a woman with violet eyes and white hair?" asked Ronald. The Head Chef glared at him, his look spelt murder, which was to be expected. "Knox, what does that matter, I need these out on the floor," he hissed.

Ronald sighed and replied, "Usually I would agree, however there's something not quite right, she requested specifically to speak to him." There was a pause, very few people requested to see Ciel, it was a common occurrence for critics to desire to speak to him as well as investors. Yet, she looked nothing like either of those. "What did she look like?" asked Claude again with a hint of irritation. No one wanted to deal with two critics in one day. "She was rather tall, with white hair, violet eyes, alabaster skin and this really strange smile. She kind of gave off a death aura," he commented. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sebastian drop a knife and turn pale white. There was no way that was a coincidence. He began to pray that she wasn't a French critic.

"Where is she?" asked Claude quickly as he looked over a plate and waved it off. "At the bar," replied Ronald smoothly. Golden eyes pierced him like knives, "Let Agni and Soma take care of it, I need this food out on the floor," he stated. Ronald nodded quickly before glancing in Sebastian's direction. He was deathly pale and looked as though he had seen a ghost. Who ever that woman was, it was enough to scare Sebastian.

~~xXx~~

Angela took a seat at the bar and tapped her fingers on the cherry counter. Her eyes never left her own reflection which stared back at her thanks to the polish they had used to keep it clean. "What can I get for you, Miss?" a voice asked, calling her from her thoughts of how to sell Sebastian. She had to get rid of him, she knew he wasn't going to have the money, and she was sick of waiting. If she could get his employer to pay his debt, she wouldn't have to deal with him anymore and would be free to take care of other accounts. Angela smiled as she looked up, standing before her was a long red-haired bartender with a pair of red glasses on his nose and a rather wide smile. "I'll have a _Whisper_," she said with a grin, the bartender wasn't half bad looking, too much red for her taste but overall easy on the eyes.

"Coming up," he stated, she caught a glimpse of his tag as he turned away. "Grell, when does the owner usually come in?" asked Angela as she watched him measure out the liquor required for her cocktail and pour it over ice in the shaker. The crimson bartender sighed and commented, "Ciel? He won't be here for a while, he didn't plan on coming tonight." Angela sat up and looked at him, most bartenders would be more guarded, he was a little too open. She hummed as she watched his shake the shaker. "Oh?" she asked and tilted her head to the side with a grin, "Why?"

Grell pursed his lips as he lowered the shaker and responded, "Something about talking to the Undertaker after Sebastian's review." There was a paused, now she was interested. She had heard that Sebastian was a chef, however she had no idea how good she was. Clearly he was good enough to attract the attention of the famous critic. "How did it go?" she asked the crimson bartender as he poured her cocktail in a glass and set out a coaster. He hummed as he placed his drink before her, "Rather well, he was blown away by a cheese cake, I'll never understand what that crazy hot critic was thinking," Grell commented before crossing his arms and looking at her. She could tell he was interested in what she wanted to talk about.

"And the chef?" she asked after a moment with a grin, if he was good enough to floor that man she could charge triple. "Sebastian? He's a beauty, I would knock him over and have him fuck me senseless," commented the red-head with a grin. Angela chuckled she could never see Sebastian on top, but what ever worked. "So I've heard, how much is he worth to Ciel?" she asked curiously as her fingers gripped the rim of the glass. It was cold and smooth to the touch, Grell may not have looked it but he had some skill with liquor. There was a pause as she watched the red-head tap his index finger to his chin, "I'm not sure exactly but a lot. He's doubled Ciel's income, which is impressive," he commented.

Angela hummed, perhaps he was a good investment, Sebastian's father would have been worth a great deal if his hair brained scheme worked. However, Sebastian was clearly the gem, the question now was how much was he worth to Ciel.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian felt his world crashing around him, it was over she was in the restaurant asking for the owner. She was going to destroy everything he had worked so hard to hide. The night was busy, and he felt the pressure slowly getting to him. He slowly looked up and noticed that there were two hours left. Just two more hours before he could dash out there and take care of Angela himself. He knew it would hurt. He didn't have the money, prior to the Undertaker he had gone to a number of banks to ask for a loan. With his last name no bank would touch him, as far as they were concerned he was too high risk.

He picked up the knife once again and began to cut another bar, he had to finish the chocolate mousse, the first had come out too flat so, he had to restart. He had miscalculated, absently he began to wonder just how often he was miscalculating. That morning he was alright, however now it felt like all he did was remake the bases. He had managed to change out of the white coat and was now in the black one, but that didn't stop the stinging he felt. His head felt even heavier, and he closed his eyes, "Two hours," he muttered as he attempted to continue. "Chef! I need another T_art de Citron_!" called Ronald.

Sebastian looked up and nodded he swiftly plated the tart and was about to hand it off when the world spun. His legs went weak as he was suddenly falling to the floor, everything ached. "Fuck! Sebastian!" screamed a familiar voice, he attempted to move the plate he had been holding crashed to the floor causing the beautiful tart to break. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him as a flustered voice shouted, "Canterbury take over, Hannah you're plating pastries!" It felt as though Sebastian was trapped in his own body as he watched the Head Chef shift from his cold and distant self to a panicked chef. "Hey, stay with me," barked Claude. Those golden eyes which held admiration now held fear, they were a beautiful color so strong and elegant. Sebastian whimpered before closing his eyes and allowing the darkness to take him.

~~xXx~~

Ciel walked into the restaurant, and Soma immediately grabbed him, "There is a woman at the bar, and Angela Blanc. She says she is here to see you," said the concierge. The slate haired young man looked at Soma in confusion, "I don't know a Blanc," he replied with a hint of irritation. He wasn't in the mood for this, he had a long night and still needed to question Sebastian. "She said it's about Sebastian," Soma stated. Ciel's eyes snapped to the hazel eyes of the Indian Concierge, "Sebastian, my Pastry Chef?" he asked curiously. Soma simply nodded and looked at him, there was silence as Ciel attempted to assess the situation. He felt a certain uneasiness fill him, "Where is she?' he asked after a moment.

There was a pause and Ciel could tell Soma wasn't sure, which meant he had sent her into the room as a guest. "At the bar," replied Agni as he appeared behind the Indian. Ciel looked at the white-haired manager and nodded. "Thank you," he replied as he turned on his heel, this was a turn in events he didn't see coming. He walked through the dining room and made his way to the bar. His eyes fell on its sole occupant, besides the bartender, his lips parted as he watched her spin around on the stool her violet eyes were daring and now he could understand Soma's discomfort. There was something dark and strangely unnerving about this woman. Something he would rather not deal with.

"Mrs. Blanc?" asked Ciel as he drew nearer, the woman smiled broadly and held up her glass. "You must be Ciel, Grell was telling me about the little lord who ran this place," she remarked as she looked at him. Ciel felt rage bubble inside him, Sebastian had called him the "Little Master" however he oddly didn't see an issue with it. He was after all a little master, yet when she drawled his title, it felt as though she were dragging it through the mud. Her voice was disgustingly sensual and Ciel felt as though he were talking to a poorly dressed tart, and not a respectable woman. "I was told you desired to speak with me about my newest hire, Sebastian Michaelis," commented Ciel.

The woman crossed her legs, "I heard you weren't one for chit-chat, I suppose we should cut to the chase," she slipped off the stool and placed a thick bundle of money on the counter. Grell stared blankly at the wad and she stated, "Keep the change." Her eyes glided over to Ciel, he had a feeling this woman was here to do something he wouldn't like. There was a pause in which he began to wonder just what this woman wanted. "But first, I think we should change location," she stated. Ciel crossed his arms, he didn't like being ordered by a guest, no matter who it was. He owned the place and demanded respect for the amount of work it took to get it out of the shambles it had been in when Vincent ran it.

"I think here is fine," he stated firmly, unwilling to be moved from his position on the floor. Angela chuckled as she looked at him, "Very well, he's your chef," she stated, "After all you are the one signing his paychecks so he can send them to me." Ciel stiffened and gazed at her in confusion, that hadn't come up in any conversations with the man. "What do you mean?" asked Ciel swiftly in an attempt to cover his shock. He wasn't about to be fooled by this woman. She huffed as she tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear, "Simple, I'm telling you he owes me money," she commented. There was a pause and Ciel could feel a few guests staring at him. "Come with me," he commented as he led the woman to his office. William was walking by and stared at the woman in confusion.

"Spears tell Alois to get to my office, we have a problem," stated Ciel as he marched by. He wanted back up if he was going to deal with a woman who looked as unstable as she did. Ciel opened the door of his office and stepped off to the side, he watched the woman pass him, the scent of her perfume was powerful and churned his stomach. Elizabeth didn't wear anything that strong, it was clear he had been blessed by Elizabeth's desire to smell good, but not make Ciel go into an asthma attack. He closed the door behind her and gestured to a chair, "Please, have a seat, Alois will join us shortly," he stated as he walked toward his desk. Her movements were delicate and yet powerful, "Which bank do you represent Miss. Blanc?" asked Ciel as he leaned on the front of his desk, a few steps away from her. He didn't desire to sit, he knew he would lose his ability to both intimidate and coerce if necessary if he took a seat at his desk. She seemed like the type of woman who needed someone to look down at her for her to understand her position.

"I am not affiliated with any bank," she replied coolly. Ciel paused, if she wasn't affiliated with a bank this meant something far more sinister than he anticipated. Paying the debt to the bank was doable, however if it were to an underground organization there was always a catch. "Then who are you affiliated with?" asked Ciel with a small smile, he watched her shift in her seat and cross her legs. "Wouldn't you like to know," she commented with a smug grin, "The lender isn't important, it's the fact that the borrower hasn't paid us back."

Ciel hummed and crossed his arms, clearly it was illegal, and the money was from someone powerful. He honestly began to wonder just what he had hired to work in his kitchen. Debts like these were dangerous, "Is Sebastian the borrower?" asked Ciel after a moment. Nothing about the chef seemed like he would be the type to ask for a loan. However, people did crazy things when they were desperate, he knew that far too well. "No, his father is," she replied offhandedly.

"Then why has he been labeled the borrower?" asked Ciel with irritation, it made no sense. If Sebastian's father was the one who asked for the loan then he should be paying it. "Simple, he's dead and we still want our money, it's a substantial sum," she commented as she reached into her pants pocket and pulled out her mobile. Her eyes gazed down on the now lit face of her mobile, "Am I keeping you from something?" asked Ciel crudely. A grin of satisfaction swept across her lips as her fingers danced across the touch screen of the mobile. "No, I'm pulling up the precise amount he owes us," she replied as she scrolled down a tab.

Ciel's mind was reeling, it must have been large for her to look it up, however, nothing out of the ballpark of his usual expenses. "Well?" he asked with irritation, he honestly didn't want this waiting game to continue, "How much?" He was losing patience and his upper hand. Miss. Blanc handed Ciel the phone and the young owner blanched. His eyes were locked on the screen as he whispered, "What the? Is this a joke!"

Angela chuckled and straightened up in the chair before commenting, "No, this is the actual sum."

~~xXx~~

Panic, that was the one thing which ran through the Head Chef as he caught his Pastry Chef. The man who had stood tall before the Undertaker and seemed invincible, turned out to be as fragile as he feared. The golden eyed chef's heart wrenched as he held Sebastian's thin body in his arms, he was too thin, too frail and far too light. Claude was strong, however he shouldn't have been able to hold Sebastian with one arm if he were healthy. "Sebastian, what have you done?" he whispered as he slowly picked the chef up. He could feel the eyes of the other chefs on him as he carried the unconscious man to his office. He was fortunate to have put in a sofa, which he periodically slept on during the day and his short break.

For once Hannah didn't fuss about her new post, in fact she looked terrified. He knew she couldn't make a pastry, "Claude! I can't bake!" she shouted. He knew full well she couldn't, however she could plate and that would have to do. "Plate what you can and as we run out tell Ronald," Claude stated briskly. The white-haired chef stared at him in terror, "Haven't you been looking at his pastries?" asked Claude angrily. He didn't have time for this, she shook her head and he felt his rage bubble to the surface.

"This is a kitchen, we look out for one another! You can't ignore one chef's creation simply because you are envious!" he snapped, he knew Hannah well enough to tell what was going through her head. Sebastian hadn't moved since he picked him up and Claude was at a loss, "I'm putting him in my office, you plate the deserts until I get back," he hissed. Hannah nodded quickly before scurrying off, like a dog who had been punished by her master.

The door of his office was thankfully open as he placed Sebastian down on the dark futon, it wasn't the softest however it was suitable. He smiled tenderly as he pulled a blanket over the chef and looked at his sleeping face. This was perhaps the calmest he had seen the man in a few days. Long dark lashes, which mirrored wings when closed lined his eyelids that had closed to cover those startling red eyes. His lips had parted, and his black hair was a mess, more than usual. Golden eyes looked over the man, he was enchanting, "Sleeping beauty," he commented. He was about to leave when he felt something damp on his fingers. Instinctively he rubbed them together, it was slick, sticky and warm.

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he looked down at the hand which had been used to catch Sebastian's chest. It was red, his eyes widened as he slowly sniffed it. He was praying it was simply pastry filling, only to be proven wrong. "It was your blood," he whispered as he removed the blanket and rapidly began un-fastening buttons. In the distance he could hear someone calling him, yet he made no motion to respond. He had to know, even if it hurt he had to know what was wrong. Claude's hands stilled after a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he looked at the blood soaked white tee. "My god, what the hell happened to you?"


	12. Chapter 12

_I want to thank all of you who are reviewing my work. You guys are amazing! I've had several guest reviews. Sadly I can't PM you guys like everyone with an account, however I want to tell you I'm really grateful that you are still reading this piece and are enjoying it. It means a lot to me to hear from all f you. _

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**Chapter 12:** **Tender Hands and the Scent of Vanilla**

Claude slowly peeled up Sebastian's blood soaked shirt. Only to see the red tinted wrapping around his chest, "Holy shit," whispered Ronald in shock. Claude hadn't even heard the door open, his eyes were locked on the dressings, which were in desperate need of being changed. Anger sunk its teeth into the man, as he slowly unraveled the gauze that were loosely clinging to Sebastian's chest. He was supposed to protect them; over and over he could hear the words of his mentor. He was Head Chef, the one who was supposed to push potential and aid chefs before they fell. Without him knowing Sebastian had shattered. "Ronald, inform Ciel that Sebastian will not be working for the rest of tonight," he commented as his eyes fell on the welts. "I'm taking him to the hospital and then to my flat," he stated firmly.

He glanced over his shoulder only to see the blond waiter nod and dash off. "What's going on?" he whispered softly as he felt his heart constrict, "Why didn't you say anything?" Claude slowly wrapped Sebastian in the blanket and picked him up; he knew Ciel would be irritated. He had a feeling he would be scolded, however at this point he could care less. Right now he had to attend to his pastry chef. The man who had brought sweetness to the kitchen. With Sebastian bundled in his arms he slipped out the back door and briskly walked to his Jaguar, in reality he didn't have to work. He had made more money than he knew what to do with, he could actually buy _Ciel_ and still have enough to buy a mountain afterword. He placed Sebastian in the passenger seat and slipped into the driver's side. He knew Thompson and company could keep Hannah in check, there was only two hours to closing.

~~xXx~~

Ciel looked at the number, "He owes you eighty thousand Euros, that's," he paused and looked at Angela. That wasn't chump change, now why a sum of that size had been given to Sebastian's father was confusing. He hadn't done an investigation however, he didn't like the fact that this was cropping up now. Ciel had worked tirelessly to create a new image with Sebastian and Claude standing side by side under him. He intended to bring London a new star, only now this was going to cause and issue.

Sebastian's debt was far more than Ciel was even intending to pay the Pậtissier's salary for his first year. He looked at Angela and then the number, "Why are you telling me this?" asked Ciel after a moment as he handed the device back to her. He had no idea why this woman was coming to him now, he was pushing as hard as he could to get his restaurant to the top. With her appearing now, his life was thrown into chaos. She pursed her lips for a moment and then replied, "Wouldn't it be ashamed if I cut my losses by selling his debt to another group." Sapphire eyes widened as he realized what she was saying. She was treating Sebastian and his debt like bad stock, he hadn't been able to pay all the money back and she needed it. So she was going to cut her losses by selling him. It wasn't legal however, that didn't seem to matter to this woman.

If Sebastian was sold to someone he would be bound to them like a slave, and Ciel knew well enough that he would lose his pastry chef. His eyes narrowed, "You intend to sell him to the highest bidder," he commented. Angela chuckled as she crossed her long legs again, "Very good Phantomhive. You also realize that the highest bidder will not be gentle to him, he's rather beautiful and will fetch a fair price," she remarked as she reached in her pocket for a carton of cigarettes. She tapped the package on her hand and continued, "You can't afford that can you?" Ciel knew he couldn't, Sebastian was bringing in customers, the problem was he had no idea if Sebastian was worth the amount he owed. She went looking through her pockets for her lighter, "You and I both know he's popular," she stated. She was about to light the drag when Ciel glared at her, "Please don't smoke, I'm an asthmatic," he stated bluntly.

Angela huffed as she put the drag away and her lighter. "I have one question," he continued as he shifted his weight before continuing to lean on his desk. She swept her bangs out of her eyes and asked, "Oh?" Ciel nodded and grinned, he wasn't going to lose, he was the king of games after all. "Cash or check," he replied. If he could purchase Sebastian's debt he would be able to keep the pastry chef in check and maintain his control on the man, binding him permanently to _Ciel,_ giving him the power to do as he pleased. "If it's cash it will take me a business week to get the funds together, where as a check will take ten business days to clear," he replied.

The woman looked stunned, "Cash," she replied, "Checks can be traced." Ciel nodded, he figured she would opt for that, after all, the lender was the head of an organization that clearly didn't desire to be named. "You will see it Friday," Ciel confirmed as he picked up a pad and wrote down the amount, "Call me with the time and place," he remarked as he plucked one of the black business cards from his desk with a bright blue metallic script across the front with the restaurant name. His information was printed on the back in white, "My mobile is on the back, call or text," he stated as he held it out to her between his fingers. The woman took the ink black card and nodded, "Is that all?" he asked curiously. The woman stared at him blankly before nodding; there was only one other person in the building who had that kind of money lying around and Ciel seriously doubted that he was willing to pay the price.

It wasn't until the woman got up to leave that Ciel realized Alois never came up stairs. Spears always carried out his orders without fail, something must have occurred for him to not. Once the woman had left Alois appeared, "Sebastian collapsed, Claude is taking him to the hospital," he panted as he stood before Ciel.

~~xXx~~

Claude paced the waiting room, they had rushed him through the ER to take care of the welts. His eyes were glued on the white linoleum floor as he paced back and forth. He was still in his Chef's jacket, he couldn't push the worry out of his head. He had never had a chef collapse on the job. He was always attentive when it came to those working under him. How he hadn't seen this was beyond him. "Mr. Faustus?" called a young woman with red hair, he looked up to see the familiar face of Angelina Durless. She acted as a food critic in her spare time, in reality this was what she did, she was a doctor in the ER. "Yes?" he replied and noticed how she seemed a little upset. She was carrying a clipboard with Sebastian's file on it, "First of all, I need to know now, did you know that he hasn't eaten anything in over a week? He's extremely malnourished, it's amazing he was even able to stand let alone work," she stated. Claude froze, he only thought Sebastian was simply not eating well, he didn't realize he had stopped eating all together. He began to wonder what happened to those delectable groceries he had purchased in the market. he had seen him shopping, "What?" he asked in confusion.

Angelina nodded before continuing, "The wounds on his chest are from a riding crop, it looks like he was beaten with one as a punishment. He's been bleeding for quite a while since his red blood cell count is really low," her words stabbed him like daggers as he came to the realization that she wasn't kidding about any of this. He began to follow her down the hallway, "Does he have any family?" she asked.

There was silence as he remembered what Sebastian had told him about his childhood, "No, he's an orphan," he replied slowly. Angelina was silent as she stood outside of Sebastian's room. He knew why she was, he needed someone to look after him while the lacerations were healing and help him change the dressings. "I'll look after him," said Claude after a moment. She nodded and opened the door to Sebastian's room, "Can I take him home tonight? I don't think you want him to panic when he wakes up." Madame Red looked over at the bed, her red eyes were locked on the thin and sleeping figure of the pastry chef. "Did he really make something that wonderful for me?" she asked after a moment.

Claude paused and looked at her, she seemed to be at a loss. Her lips were parted slightly as she pondered her thoughts. She had always been pale and he could see the dark circles forming under her eyes, she needed to reapply her makeup soon. "Yes he did, he made it from scratch," he replied softly, her eyes lift up after he said so and her small lips formed a smile. "A man made a treat that tasted as though an angel had," she mused before turning on her heel to leave. Claude knew that a number of customers thought highly of Sebastian's work, however, he had no idea that they thought that highly of it.

He left his position in the doorway and slowly crossed the room to the bed in which Sebastian was sleeping. Sebastian's eyes were closed and his face looked calm, his chest rose slowly before falling softly. He was safe, for now, which put Claude's mind at ease. Catching Sebastian as he collapsed had set something off inside of him. It was as though he were watching one of the strongest things finally crumble.

Before he even realized it Claude's large hands had wrapped around Sebastian's smaller ones, even the Head Chef's palms were bigger. Claude's golden eyes fell on what their hands looked like as he cradled Sebastian's. Sebastian's hands were slightly narrower in the palm and he had long fingers, perfect for a piano or violin. They were slightly pink and he could see the blue veins through the thin skin, which covered them. Claude's slightly thicker fingers traced each of Sebastian's knuckles, the skin was slightly rough over them but not unpleasant. He could only imagine the number of times Sebastian had been swatted over the knuckles with a ruler. A chuckle left the tall man as his turned Sebastian's hand over and looked at the palm. It was just as soft as he thought, his fingers were a little calloused from the rolling pin. He could smell the vanilla on them from the batter, and smiled, "Hands of an angel indeed, now whether or not you are one of those who fell is a different story," he commented.

~~xXx~~

Ronald had finally said goodnight to the last customer and took a seat at one of the tables. Thankfully Sebastian had made more than enough for the night. The floor always seemed larger when all of the customers had gone, yet he could still hear them. Their voices seemed to linger for a few moments in the air as he smelt the perfumes fade, the warmth of chairs dissipate and the remnants of the guests leave the room. The white linens were cleared long ago of the plates and utensils, leaving them strangely bare. A hand swept through his blond hair as he drew a deep breath and closed his eyes, he loved his position as the head waiter. He could remember every detail of the room, the scent of the food, the conversations, the laughter and the ring of glasses as a couple toasted.

It had been a long time since _Ciel_ had seen so many happy customers, or had been so warm. Claude's food was naturally the best however the sweetness of Sebastian's desserts seemed to balance the bold flavors of Claude. The pair were like yin and yang, always balancing one another. "Sugar and Salt," he mused as he rose from his seat. He had heard of Sebastian collapsing and he suddenly began to worry about the warmth which had finally entered the restaurant again. "Knox?" asked a familiar voice, Ronald turned and looked over his shoulder at William. His blazer was over his shoulder and his hair had fallen out-of-place. "What's the matter?" he asked after a moment.

Ronald hummed as he shifted in his seat and loosened his bow tie, "What if we finally lose the warmth which this place has gained? What if by some chance things end horribly as they had with the previous chef?" he asked after a moment. William's expression was blank, however his emerald-green eyes told a different story. They were filled with concern and he seemed pensive, the last chef had left in a huff and things had ended poorly. In fact it was the reason why one of those precious stars had fallen. "Sebastian isn't like him, not at all. Ash betrayed us," said William after a moment as he pulled out an empty chair and took a seat in front of him.

"But can we really afford to lose another star? We are already skating on thin ice," Ronald whispered as he looked at his hands. He loved the restaurant, the customers and for the most part, the staff was like his family. There was silence, green eyes shifted to find a pair of emeralds which seemed just as concerned. William wasn't like the other members of the staff, his emotions rarely showed on his face, excluding anger and irritation both of those were visible when Grell was around. "In reality no, however he isn't Ash. Ash sabotaged us, Sebastian simply collapsed. This Pậtissier is far too kind to do what Ash had," William replied as he placed a hand on Ronald's head and ruffled his hair. "We will be alright, he was probably sleep deprived and dehydrated. It's been a rough past few days for him," William stated casually as he began to fix Ronald's bangs after having made a mess of them.

His hands were large and rather warm as he swept Ronald's bangs back in place. "You know Grell will get insanely jealous if he sees this," Ronald whispered with a smile. A low chuckle left William's lips as his fingers brushed the side of the blond's face, his touch was light and tender. Vaguely Ronald began to wonder if this was what the wine bottles felt as Williams' fingers caressed each of them. "I think he can hold his own, besides he left with a rather handsome man before," William replied with a grin, "We won't have to worry about him tonight." A shiver of anticipation ran through Ronald as William drew closer, he was about to press his lips to the waiter when Hannah called, "Get a room!"

Ronald looked over his shoulder and stuck out his tongue, "Get Laid!" he shouted back before turning to William. The white haired woman stomped her foot and left in a huff, as she always did when ever Ronald had the audacity to reply to her taunts. "You know, one of these days she's going to spray you with Mace," he remarked. The slender shoulders of the head waiter lifted and fell slowly as he commented, "Too late, she did last year, or don't you remember?" William paused and absently tapped his chin, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He seemed to be lost as he looked for the memory. It was one which Ronald would never forget, "Oh yes, the time Grell dared you to hug her, she got you point blank in the face with the Mace. You screamed bloody murder," he chuckled as he recalled the embarrassing fiasco. "I'm never listening to him again," commented Ronald as he pouted and crossed his arms.

"Don't worry love, she will never get you again," he commented with a grin as he walked behind Ronald and wrapped his arms around the waiter. Those powerful arms which lifted cases of wine and held him every night were wrapped around him. "Oh?" asked Ronald as he tipped his head back to look up at the Sommelier. William had removed his glasses and nodded, their faces were a breath away from one another. Ronald could see the gold streaks in William's green irises, and the minute highlights of chestnut in his hair. "Yes because you are no longer single," he whispered before pressing his lips to Ronald's. The young blond hummed as he slowly slipped his hand over William's neck and parted his lips for the Sommelier. As always his kiss tasted like the full bodied Merlot he favored.

~~xXx~~

Ciel sighed and shook his head, Alois had told him what had happened to the pastry chef and he felt as though he had been tricked, or cheated in some way. He was about to purchase defective goods, he couldn't even respond to Alois. He simply stood there absently staring at the blond bartender who was in a world of panic. By the time Ciel had managed to wrap his mind around what had happened he was in the kitchen standing before Ronald and Hannah. Claude was nowhere to be seen. The memory played over and over in his head, his sapphire blue eyes closed as he remembered their expressions. Hannah looked as though she had lost her sanity as she attempted to plate each dessert. While Ronald was doing everything he could to contain the fear of the public realizing that the Pậtissier had just passed out and was being driven to the hospital at a minimum.

It was a miracle they had pulled through the night, it was hard enough to run the kitchen when it was fully staffed. To be down both the Pậtissier and the Head Chef was a nightmare. Ciel drew a deep breath and slowly exhaled in an attempted to control his anger before turning his attention to his desk. The note which he had written still rested on top of the pile. He had to punish both chefs, or at least Claude, who could have sent Sebastian with one of the underlings and remained in the kitchen. The question was what could he possibly do to the man that would hurt him enough. Claude wasn't like the others, he wasn't in need of money and Ciel knew that. He sighed as he took a seat at his desk.

"Ciel?" called a timid voice through the door, he could hear a timid knock as a familiar hand tapped on the door. "Come in Elizabeth," he called. The young woman pushed open the door, a smile had swept across her lips and he watched as it slowly faded before his eyes. If there was one thing Elizabeth was familiar with it was that she was able to read his every emotion. "You're brooding," she commented, he could hear the disappointment in her voice. Recently she had become upset every time he worked over time, she knew better than anyone that the restaurant business was demanding, yet she was always so upset when ever he had to work late. "What's the matter Lizzy?" asked Ciel as he slipped the note pad under a stack of papers and slowly got up from his seat.

He wasn't in the mood to explain the large number written on the pad or the details. "Ciel, do you remember what day it is?" she asked slowly, he could hear the pain in her voice again. He hummed and replied, "Yeah, the twelfth." There was another pause as he large emerald eyes looked at him, she looked even more irritated than before, "Ciel, do you remember what today is?" she asked. Clearly he had missed something until he watched her pull out a small brown box, he froze and looked at her. A wave of dread smashed into him after realizing what he had just forgotten, "Our anniversary," she stated coldly, "You said we would do something this year."

He was stiff as she placed the box on his desk and looked at him, "You promised, how could you forget something so important, we've been engaged for a year," she spat. This was the first time Ciel had ever seen the woman this upset, he knew they had been engaged for a while, however he never expected this to happen. "Lizzy I'm so sorry, something came up. Sebastian," he began only for her to glare at him.

"What the hell does a Pậtissier have to do with you forgetting about our reservation?" she demanded, her tone was even colder as Ciel watched the woman become furious with him. He drew a deep breath and ran his hand through his slate hair in exasperation, she was frustrating. "He collapsed today, during dinner, I was attending to it," he replied. Elizabeth paused, her expression changed slowly into one of shock and then concern. She had become a fan of Sebastian's work, to the point that he had to ask Ronald to box up a treat for her so he could bring it home with him. "Is he alright?" she asked after a moment. Ciel hummed and nodded, "I got a call from Madame Red, he's resting for now. Claude is taking him home," he replied.

Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, "Then why didn't you call?" she asked softly, "You could have texted me." Ciel sighed as he slowly wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head affectionately, "Everything happened so fast, I didn't really have a chance to come up for air," he replied as he pulled her closer to him. He smiled brightly and continued, "You know I didn't forget though," he lied. He wasn't about to tell her that he had entirely forgotten, that would be beyond idiotic. She looked up at him curiously and Ciel continued, "Check my left pocket." It was honestly a good thing he had picked the piece for Lizzy in advance and picked it up in case of emergencies. She curiously reached into the pocket and found a small box, her eyes widened as she looked at the small blue box. "Tiffany's," she whispered. Ciel nodded and smiled as he watched her open the small blue box, nestled inside was a pair of white gold hoops.

Her face fell as she looked at the box's contents. He figured she would love them they were shaped like hearts and covered in diamonds. "You don't like them?" Ciel asked curiously, he was certain in the store that she would love them. She smiled broadly and replied, "Oh no, I love them," she chirped. He could tell she was expecting to see something better, "I'm glad," he admitted with a smile. She was his fiancé however he had yet to give her the ring, his parents had made a deal with the Milfords when he was a child. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he had no interest in taking it past being lovers. Yet she insisted on the other. He didn't see the point on marriage; his own parents had a fragile one. It seemed more restrictive than it did anything. "Ciel, can we do something this weekend?" asked Elizabeth with a smile.

"Of course, whatever you like," replied Ciel with a smile.

~~xXx~~

Claude slowly carried Sebastian through his flat, Madame Red specifically instructed to make sure Sebastian took it easy so that his wounds would heal. Naturally Claude agreed to her terms; however he couldn't help but stare at the beautiful man in his arms. Even though he was too thin, Sebastian was still beautiful, far more beautiful than any other he had met. He continued through his living room and walked past the dining room toward his bedroom. He smiled as he placed Sebastian on the plum colored sheets, the rich color made his skin look like fine porcelain, bone white and smooth to the touch. He shook his head and pushed the thought to the side as he slowly removed the jacket he had wrapped the man in and then his shirt. He wanted the gauze to get some air; it would help them heal cleanly.

His fingers delicately lifted the shirt as he cradled Sebastian in his arms, he was careful with every movement. As he did so his fingers trailed across Sebastian's skin, it was just as soft and smooth as it had appeared. He slowly placed the man back on the bed before removing his sauté pants, he stole touches as he went, careful not to leave any marks. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Once Sebastian's sauté pants were off he folded them and placed them on the other side of his massive bed. In moments he had Sebastian tucked into his bed, on another occasion he would be happy that he finally had the chef in his bed. However, this wasn't how he would have liked it, he sighed sadly as he gently tucked one of Sebastian's bangs behind his ear. "Good night," he whispered as he slowly went to get up.

Claude was about to walk away when he felt a tug on his shirt, he paused and turned around in confusion to see a pair of ruby red eyes gazing up at him. "Please, don't leave," Sebastian pleaded, he sounded like a child again, hurt, alone and afraid. Claude froze, Sebastian's eyes were glassy, his cheeks were flushed it wasn't until then he remembered that they had given Sebastian some powerful medication to numb the pain so they could put the stitches in. "Don't leave me alone," he stammered again, his voice was soft and laced with sadness. It sounded as though he were going to cry, Claude felt his heart constrict as he looked at him. Alois only showed something similar when he had a nightmare, the pain medication that Madame Red administered must have made him slightly delusional. "I'm just going to be outside," Claude said after a moment as he gently removed Sebastian's hand.

The raven haired chef's eyes widened as he gripped Claude's hand. The Head Chef could feel his harsh grip and realized Sebastian was squeezing his hand with all the strength he had. "Don't leave me alone, stay," he said again, "it hurts." Claude slowly took a seat on the bed and sighed with defeat, he was planning on sleeping on the sofa, however Sebastian seemed bent on keeping him in bed. "Alright," he said softly as he placed a hand on his head, "I'll stay." Claude slipped off his shoes and slipped out of his shirt, Sebastian's eyes drooped and he could tell that the Pậtissier was exhausted. He slipped off his belt and then pants before walking to his dresser and slipping into a pair of sweatpants. Claude turned around to see Sebastian was forcing himself to stay awake. He chuckled a little; this action reminded him so much of a small child, scared of monsters under the bed. He lifted the plum and gold bedding to slip under it; he had forgotten how warm his bed was with another person.

There had only been one other person that he had shared his bed with, someone who had stabbed him in the back and had been cheating the entire time. The one person who proved Claude's father right, he sighed as he watched Sebastian slowly slip back to sleep. He could only pray that the chef wouldn't panic when he woke in the morning after finding himself sleeping beside him. "Well I can enjoy him now, whatever the morning may bring, I have tonight and he is in my bed so it's not a total loss," he muttered before slipping his glasses off and placing them on the night stand. With a soft click the lights went out, and he snuggled into the pillow. All he could do was wait until sleep finally took him.


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's Note: I wanted to take this opportunity to clarify something, this is both a Sebciel fic. and a Sebastian/Claude fic. I apologize for the confusion as I set up the couples. I hope now it makes more sense. _

_I'm glad that all of you have taken a great amount of interest in this story. Thank you to all of my reviewers, for those of you who reviewed anonymously I thank you as well and I'm glad to hear that I have sparked your interest to read more Sebastian/Claude fics. _

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**Chapter 13: Sugar and Salt**

The numbness that had spread through his chest had slowly faded, and the pain returned gradually. That ache from the nasty bites the crop had given Sebastian's skin had began to bubble to the surface. Oddly he had fallen asleep, yet he didn't have a single dream, rather he felt warm and safe. In fact, he was far too warm, heavy eyelids lifted as burgundy eyes to see a smooth white chest. His eyes widened with panic, he didn't remember a single thing after he had heard Angela was in the restaurant that night. A pair of arms was wrapped around him, they were soothing and seemed to hold him as though he were made of glass and the most important thing in the world. His fingers brushed the soft skin which covered the powerful muscles under it, it was warm, and he could smell the familiar scent of basil and rosemary. His eyes shifted up, a rather broad pair of shoulders, square chin, chiseled nose, almond eyes that were laced with thick lashes and narrow black eyebrows. His eyes widened, and he pushed himself away from the Head Chef. "Claude?" he stammered as he pushed against Claude's rock hard chest. "What the hell?" he shouted, he didn't remember going anywhere with Claude.

The Pậtissier shot up and looked around the room, he didn't recognize a single thing in it. None of it was his, he wasn't even in his apartment. "Where?" he whispered as he glanced around the room, he could see his clothes but the rest of it was nothing like he owned. The space was large and open, he could see the warm tones of brown and cream throughout the room and stared at the plum-colored sheets. He wasn't even dressed, he could see his wrappings were fresh and well done, "What?" he asked in confusion. He was about to slip out of bed when he heard a groan, "It's still early, go back to sleep," muttered Claude as a pair of tired golden eyes opened. They were even more powerful without glasses, his gaze fell on Sebastian, and he squinted a little. He reached to the side of his night stand blindly and picked up his glasses. "Where the hell am I Faustus?" Sebastian demanded, his eyes widened as he watched Claude sit up and stretch his arms over his head, he hummed as his powerful muscles flexed. He looked as though he was a cat.

"My apartment, I forgot to get your address from Soma," replied Claude as he looked at Sebastian and pushed his glasses further up his nose. Sebastian was silent, he knew Head Chefs made more than the Pậtissier however this apartment was worth three times even a Head Chef's salary. He looked around in confusion at the sleek furniture made of dark woods, the view it's self was to die for, it wasn't until now that he realized he had a view in a half of London, he could see the Themes and Hyde park. "Do you remember anything?" asked Claude as he slowly slipped out of the covers, Sebastian relaxed after seeing a pair of black sweatpants hugging the man's hips. Sebastian's stared at Claude and suddenly realized he was still in his boxers, "We didn't?" asked Sebastian curiously as he slipped a hand in his hair in confusion.

Claude had admitted to being gay, which did scare him and to wake up in his bed he honestly thought that he had slept with the Head Chef. "No, I like my partner wide awake and alert when I fuck. That and I don't pray on co workers, if you remember correctly," he stated, there was a note of irritation in his voice. The Pậtissier was quiet as he looked at Claude, it was impossible to tell how muscular he was under his coat, to see him without a shirt was a little overwhelming, "No," replied Sebastian, "What happened yesterday?" he asked.

Claude took a seat on the end of the bed and replied, "You passed out, I took you to the hospital where they gave you an IV and stitched up your wounds. After that since it was late and Ciel was closed for the evening I took you here." There was a pause, Sebastian had assumed the worst and yet Claude had simply helped him. Yet, there was one thing he couldn't understand, why Claude was the one who took him to the hospital. He was in charge of the kitchen; he should have sent someone else to do so. "Why did you take me and not someone else?" asked Sebastian slowly, he had to know just what the man was thinking. Claude was difficult to read, his face always said so little and yet his eyes spoke incessantly. The Head Chef was quiet as he attempted to fix his hair with his fingers, "Ah, well I was the one who caught you and saw the welts. I have a car, and it was far more suitable than the junk that the others drive to transport an injured and unconscious person," he commented.

As always logic and efficiency seemed to govern the chef, "I see, thank you," replied Sebastian as he slipped out from under the covers and rose. His chest ached again as he moved, without thinking a hiss left his lips, "Madame Red said you would hurt for a bit, she prescribed some pain-killer," Claude said smoothly as he walked over to his nightstand and pulled out a bottle. He took a look at the label and smiled, "Here, we will have to drop off the prescription at the pharmacy later," he replied as he handed Sebastian the bottle. The Pậtissier stared at the label and noticed that it was in fact in his name. He hummed after a moment as he shifted the bottle in his hands. "Thank you for the help," he said after a moment as he got up.

Claude stood there in confusion, "Micahelis, did you not understand what I just said, you should take it easy you have stitches," he said after a moment as he watched the young man slip into his sauté pants. Sebastian sighed as he reached for his soiled shirt and was about to put it on, "I know you're trying to be nice, however I have other things to attend to, like going to work," he stated coolly. He didn't like Claude seeing him like this and had no desire to stay with the man, he didn't mind that Claude was gay, however, he felt too vulnerable that it made him uncomfortable. "Ciel was informed you collapsed, if he finds out you are going to be working with those lacerations that were recently stitched he's going to be beyond pissed," Claude pointed out as Sebastian winced, it hurt more than he anticipated to put on his shirt.

"I don't give a damn, he can be angry with you, I'm going to work," he retorted as he continued to slip into his shirt. A large hand grabbed his wrist, and Sebastian paused, Claude was standing in front of him, his golden eyes had narrowed with anger. His black hair was still a mess, and he looked beyond annoyed, there was something dangerously familiar about the way those eyes were looking at him now. "You are injured, Ciel will be more than happy to fire you for negligence," he stated angrily. Sebastian yanked his arm, with a great deal of struggled he had managed to free himself from the Head Chef's grasp. "All the more reason to go to work," he stated, he didn't want to be deemed useless, he finally had a job and was more than happy to work injured if it meant getting Angela and her goons off his back.

"Who the beat you with the crop, Sebastian?" asked Claude out of the blue. There was silence, Sebastian didn't think Claude would be daring enough to ask such a question; he seemed more like the type to mind his own business. "What does it have to do with you?" asked Sebastian curtly, he wasn't going to be bullied, that was his personal life, and it had nothing to do with the Head Chef. He didn't want pity, he also didn't want to be taken advantage of. Pastries were the one thing he had, they had saved him on more than one occasion, he wasn't about to allow the arrogant Head Chef to take that away. "You were beaten! My job is to protect you!" shouted Claude as he grabbed Sebastian's arms, his hands squeezed Sebastian's biceps, they felt like iron fetters rather than hands. "No, your job is to maintain order in the kitchen and get the orders out on time. You have no right to question my personal life or involve yourself in that of the chefs under you!" snarled Sebastian as he attempted to break free. His chest screaming in protest as he twisted.

"That is what they say in school, however I have learned otherwise! Emotions cloud judgment and chef are emotional creatures like any other artist!" Claude shouted, his voice was even louder than before, "If I am to ensure that you all perform well then I must care for your emotions! That is my job as the Head Chef of _Ciel_!" Sebastian stared open-mouthed at the determined Head Chef before him, he didn't want anyone to know what god had punished him with that his life would always be filled with misfortune, and since the day he had climbed over the wall and into that garden. He would never be one of the fortunate, "Yes you are the Head Chef, and I am the Pậtissier! Leave me in peace! I don't want fucking pity, I never wanted it!" Sebastian spat as he twisted again, the stitches tugged at his skin, and he hissed in discomfort.

"You are injured, Madame Red said to make sure you took it easy and I have to care! If I don't who will?" Claude roared, "Who will care about you after you have abused yourself and allowed others to do the same?" he shouted. Sebastian froze, he could hear the rage in his voice, his grip tightened on Sebastian's arms, Claude was even angrier than before. "Who the hell beat you?" shouted Claude as he looked into Sebastian's eyes, he was unrelenting in his desire to know. He was so determined that for a moment Sebastian thought he saw something more than rage in the man's eyes, however it had flicked by far too quickly for him to understand what the emotion was. "Release me," he shouted as he pulled away, Claude's hands opened quickly as Sebastian stumbled backward.

His chest was tight as he panted, "I don't care, Faustus. We have a professional relationship, if that is a problem than you should resign. My affairs have nothing to do with you," Sebastian's tone was sharp as he spoke. He had to push Claude away, he did want someone to care, however Claude was too close to him. He didn't need Angela to take her wrath out on the Head Chef as well. "I'm leaving, I'll see you at work," his words were cold and detached as Sebastian turned on his heel and left the room, he had finally managed to get his shirt on and found his shoes conveniently near the door. "Sebastian, just tell me what happened," barked Claude as he went after the chef. A sigh left the Pậtissier as he tied his shoes, he knew Claude was persistent, however, this was ridiculous in his opinion. "No, Faustus. It has nothing to do with you," Sebastian hissed as he straightened up and continued toward the door. "Sebastian, let me help you," Claude pleaded as he attempted to run after the chef.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, he had enough and quickly sprinted down the hallway toward the elevators, "No!" he shouted over his shoulder before rapidly hitting the call button for the lift. He knew he had no idea where he was in London, nor did he care, he simply had to get away from the man. The doors slid open and Sebastian quickly slipped inside, "Sebastian!" shouted Claude, as he sprinted down the hall after the chef, "Stop!" he called. The doors closed, and the lift began to move, he was finally away from Claude. He slowly walked to the back of the lift and leaned on the wall as it moved. His breathing finally evened out as he managed to somewhat recompose himself. Claude was a good man, but not someone who should be dragged into Sebastian's world. A world in which darkness was the only thing he knew and was ruled by pain. The sound of the lift reaching his floor startled Sebastian as he looked up to see the doors opening. He exited the metal box and continued through the lobby, his eyes widened as he looked at the marble floor and glass, it was beautiful. Claude was from another world, one which he would never be able to touch with clean hands. Sebastian paused as he looked at the wooden reception desk, "Sebastian!" called a familiar voice, the Pậtissier turned to see Claude exiting the stairwell. His was wearing of slippers, "Please stop! We need to talk!" he shouted. Sebastian turned and made a quick exit, he barely had enough money for a taxi however he had to get away.

His hand flew up as he called on of the black cabs, as soon as it came to a stop Sebastian leapt inside and swiftly stated, his address. Claude was standing outside and the driver asked, "Someone you know?" Sebastian shook his head and barked, "No, just go."

~~xXx~~

Ciel sighed as he entered his office, he was going to talk to Sebastian as soon as the chef came in, he didn't want this to hang in the air. He had to take care of it. He would get to punishing Claude soon enough, "Ciel, are we still playing out little game?" asked a familiar voice. Ciel chuckled and looked up at the blond bartender, "Yes, Alois, I'm making my move this morning," he replied. The bartender grinned as he took a seat on Ciel's desk, "Oh?" he asked. Ciel smiled broadly, his eyes fell on the pad he had written the number Sebastian owed on, he was going to buy him and force him to stay with him. A permanent binding on the chef, "Yes," he replied with a smug grin. Alois noticed how happy he was and commented, "Have fun and remember to use a condom," he teased as he leapt from Ciel's desk and left the office. Now all he had to do was wait for Sebastian to arrive.

He had instructed Soma to have Sebastian brought to his office that morning. There was a loud knock on his door and Ciel smiled, that had to be the chef, "Enter," he called. The door swung open, and he noticed a rather tired looking Pậtissier standing before him. Sebastian's hair was a mess as always, however he looked slightly pale and seemed to be hanging on to what little energy he had left. "Sit," Ciel said graciously as he watched the Pậtissier cautiously enter the office. Sebastian did as he was told and took a seat, "Soma said you needed to see me," he said after a moment.

Ciel nodded as he closed the door and returned to his desk, "How are you feeling, Alois told me you collapsed yesterday," he asked after a moment. Sebastian was quiet, "This doesn't affect your employment here, I just want to make sure you are alright," added Ciel after realizing that Sebastian was concerned about his job. It was only natural that he would be afraid of losing it after meeting with Angela. He had a feeling that the woman would hurt others around Sebastian and was serious about selling him. "I'm feeling better, just tired," he replied sheepishly. The bags under Sebastian's eyes had disappeared, however the Pậtissier still looked rather drained. "I see, is it because of Angela Blanc?" Ciel asked after a moment.

Sebastian's eyes widened and he twitched at the name, his head shot up as he asked, "You met her? What did she want?" Every word left his lips in a rush, the woman had done something sever to Sebastian, Ciel began to wonder just how much the woman had been tormenting the Pậtissier. He had a feeling she was the reason he hadn't been sleeping, "Yes I met with her, she came to me with a proposition, one that I'm still unsure of whether or not I will do it," he stated as he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. The tension in the room grew as Sebastian's eyes widened with fear, it was clear at that point that the man had been doing all he could to hide this secret from him. "She intends to sell your debt to someone else, she has several buyers lined up," Ciel commented and tilted his head to the side, "Who ever buys you will have be able to do with you as they please."

He watched the Pậtissier turn as white as the flower he used, his red eyes were locked on Ciel, even in a state of shock he looked beautiful. "She asked if I would like to buy your debt, if I do so I will not lose you as my Pậtissier. Where as if another buyer purchased you, I may not be able to keep you, which would inadvertently damage my profit," Ciel explained coolly. With each word he watched the Pậtissier tense up, he had Sebastian where he wanted him however there was this unusual feeling in his stomach. He felt as though he were going to be sick, it was knotting and twisting as he spoke. He had made these threats to other businessmen, yet never felt this sensation. "If I purchase you though, I will have to give her a rather large sum, which I may or may not regain in my profits," Ciel explained as he slowly got up and walked around to the front of the desk.

"The question seems to be, if you are worth that much," he commented as he paused before Sebastian and looked into his burgundy red eyes. They were filled with chaos as Sebastian began to wonder what his fate would be. It was then he made the final decision, "Please, Ciel. I will do whatever you ask," Sebastian whispered as he looked up at the slate haired owner. A smile spread across the young man's lips, Sebastian was submitting to him, even though he had already decided to save him. This made the deal even sweeter, the fact that Sebastian would do as he was told. "Anything?" asked Ciel as he leaned forward. The Pậtissier nodded, "Well then, I need a cook, you will move out of your excuse for an apartment and move in with me. Your job will be to cook for both myself and Lizzy," Ciel stated as he smiled darkly.

He was going to do everything possible to tie this man down, "My ability to cook a meal is limited, Claude," Sebastian began. Of course Sebastian would bring Claude into this, "If I wanted to eat five-star cuisine I would ask Claude to do it, I want yours," Ciel stated. Sebastian's lips closed and he simply nodded. "Good, now get back to work. You will be moved out of your pitiful apartment tomorrow and place in my home," Ciel explained. Sebastian simply nodded a little and left the office in silence. "I finally have you, perhaps this will be fun, after all Claude would hate this as much as you do," he whispered before turning to his desk and snatching his mobile from it. Now all that was left was to gather the cash and drop it off to the vindictive woman, cutting her out of the picture entirely.

~~xXx~~

Alois smiled, so the game was on, which meant he had a chance to make his crush jealous. He smiled as he slipped a pair of headphones on his head and turned the volume of his I-pod up before he started his usual cleaning routine. His hips swayed as he listened to the piece, he loved the bass as it pounded in his ears and the smooth Spanish voice which caressed his ears. "_Muchacha kiss kiss bang ¿quién eres tú? Extraordinaria ya va, qué cool. Tus besos son como electicidad. Sólo te veo y no puedo esperar_,(1)" Alois sang as he grabbed a broom and began to sweep behind the bar. There was something about the voice of a Spaniard which drove Alois nuts, that beautiful sound and the way which all of the worlds flowed from their lips.

His hips swung as he danced, sweeping along the way. He stopped sweeping and quickly did a tap section to the familiar section, his feet moved with ease, as he did the familiar flamenco steps he had learned. Once he had swept the floor he snatched a rag and tossed it in the air before catching it and doing a spin on the ball of his foot. The wood of the bar was smooth and gained a shine after he had run his rag over it with ease. "Beautiful," he breathed after the song ended, "Now for the inventory." He slipped his headphones off when he heard a familiar chuckle.

He was about to turn around when he saw a pair of familiar golden eyes staring at him in the reflection of a green bottle. "Claude!" Alois chirped as he turned around. The Head Chef was leaning on the counter and Alois' sky blue eyes narrowed, "Oi, get your elbows off my freshly polished counter!" he shouted as he smacked the man in the face with the dirty rag. "You know, you would be cuter if you weren't so obnoxious," commented Claude as he took the rag off his head. Alois had used a great deal of furniture polish on it and he grinned as he watched the man stick out his tongue in disgust. "Lay off the furniture polish, it's a bar not Saint Edward's Chair, Alois," he commented as he threw the rag back at the bartender.

The blond hummed and looked at him, "I want it to shine, besides what are you doing here?" he asked as he looked at Claude. He picked up a glass and began to run a rag over it, "Sebastian collapsed yesterday, yet when he woke he pushed me away," commented Claude. Alois' fingers paused, his blue eyes widened and he lowered the glass. He hadn't expected Claude to take him home, "What did you do to him?" he asked hesitantly. Claude ran a hand through his hair and sighed, "I took him to the hospital and brought him home, since Soma was gone by the time Madame Red was done. I undressed him to prevent his clothes from getting too messed up and tucked him in for the night," he paused as if he was trying to continue composing his thoughts. Alois listened quietly for him to continue. Part of him didn't want to hear more, however he couldn't ignore this, Ciel was making his move which meant it was time to make his own. "He woke in a haze and asked me to stay with him and yet when he woke up he was pissed and nearly ripped out his stitches," Claude replied.

Alois was about to say something when he caught the last part. "Wait, Sebastian has stitches?" he asked in a panic. Claude nodded and looked at him, "Yeah someone beat the shit out of him with a riding crop from what Durless could tell," he responded. Instantly Alois felt bad for the Pậtissier, he may not have liked him personally however no one should be subjected to that. He could remember how badly he had been beaten by his uncle. "I see," he said after a moment, it wasn't until now he realized Claude was acting more like a customer. "But what does it have to do with you? You offered him help, and he turned you away," Alois commented as he picked up a glass and went back to polishing. He held it up to the light and looked at his reflection in it. It sparkled in the light, and he smiled with satisfaction.

"I'm the Head Chef," replied Claude stubbornly. Alois looked at Claude and recognized that look, it was the same one he had, the look of unrequited love. "Claude, what if we made a deal," mentioned Alois as he placed the glass on the site and placed the rag over his shoulder. A smile swept across his lips as the Head Chef looked at him. "What would that be, Alois? I'm not interested in something stupid," he hissed. Alois chuckled as he leaned across the counter, his face was inches from Claude's, "You love him, and I love Ciel, if we work together we can both have what we want," Alois stated.

Claude's golden eyes held a spark and he stared at the bartender, "You mean make him jealous? He's single he wouldn't fall for something that hair brained," Claude stated as he pulled back and looked at the blond with irritation. Alois chuckled, if Ciel had his way he would chain Sebastian to the restaurant and never let him go, "Ciel is interested in him," Alois stated. There was silence as Claude looked at the blond, "He's straight," Claude stated with a note of disbelief. Alois hummed, it was only natural for Claude to think that since Ciel was to marry Elizabeth and slept with her every night. He knew Ciel was interested, however not in the way Claude was, Ciel loved to control people with power and talent. He seemed to feed off of them, "You know Ciel he wants to dominate them. To feed off of their creativity," Aloud commented with a smile. If he could get Claude to agree he might be able to play Ciel and get him to reciprocate his love. Aloud knew it was a long shot, but what better way to beat the king of games than to change the rules.

Claude looked at Aloud his expression was blank; he had no idea what he was thinking. "No, Ciel may be interested but Sebastian isn't," replied Claude. Claude was quiet, he didn't expect Claude to be loyal despite the fact that his love wasn't reciprocated. He hummed as he looked at the Head Chef, "My offer stands, if you're interested. I bet your pretty pent up. It's been awhile since you fucked you could use a release or two," commented Alois playfully as he leaned on the counter and licked the side of Claude's face. The Head Chef pulled away and shook his head, "No matter how desperate I am or will get, I would never do something like that with the likes of you," hissed Claude. Alois pouted playfully as he watched Claude march back into the kitchen, he knew the man would give in since Ciel was making his move. The young owner never moved unless he knew he could trap someone in a bond which was nearly unbreakable.

~~xXx~~

The air in the kitchen was filled with tension rather than the harmony between the sweetness of pastries and the exotic spices used in the entrées. Instead the two sides seemed to be at one another's throats, and the tension between the Pậtissier and Head Chef was palpable. Neither of them seemed to give into one another as they worked hard, "Order up!" called Sebastian sternly. His voice carried through the noise and the waiters scurried to do as the chef demanded. Grell stared in shock as Sebastian finished plating in record time. "2 _Amalie_ and 1 Raspberry _Tranche_! I need an order of Macaroons too!" shouted Ronald over the hiss of oil in pans and the roar of ovens. "Yes!" called Sebastian as he went to work on assembling, as always his movements were swift precise and efficient. "Where the hell is that Lamb for table nine?" cursed Grell as he waited for the other end of the kitchen.

Sebastian added the streak to one of the plates and then the sprig of mint with the Macaroons, "Go!" he barked as Ronald snatched the plates. "He's quick tonight, you wouldn't know he collapsed last night," commented Ronald as he carried the plates past Grell. The red waiter looked at the pastry chef, there was an air of concentration that surrounded him, and he was lost in his work as he pulled a tray of Macaroons from the oven before prepping another tray of rough pastries. "Wow," whispered Grell in shock, "Is there a competition between the two I don't know about?" he asked as he watched Claude plate nine plates and have them sent out.

"Sutcliff, stop standing around and go!" Claude roared as he finished plating the lamb and went to check on a reduction that didn't seem to be acting right. Grell stared at the pair as they moved in opposite directions, "Yes," he replied as he walked back onto the floor. The customers seemed to noticed the renewed vigor in the Pậtissier, there were even more compliments for him than the first night. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something major had gone down between the two.

Perhaps a little competition between the two was needed to keep things fresh, he hummed as he collected the plates and carried them to the back. He preferred working the bar, however they were short staffed on the floor, which meant he couldn't' simply hang out as a bartender. Alois had been grinning all night, naturally Grell wondered why; he just didn't have the time to ask. The house was alive and as long as the floor was full Ciel would be happy, at least in theory, he still didn't understand how that man operated. He hummed as he greeted a new table, "Welcome to _Ciel_, I'll be your waiter for the evening. What can I start you off with?" he asked with a smile.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian's new burst of adrenaline and efficiency didn't go unnoticed, but there was also something else there, a thirst to prove his value. It was as though he were watching Sebastian the first week he had arrived. That drive to show Ciel he was well worth his keep. The night began to wind down as it always did at ten and he watched as the chefs began to clean their messes. The air had finally stilled and the tension released as Claude opened the windows, he could tell Sebastian was avoiding him, the Pậtissier made no motion to even acknowledge his existence. Perhaps the raven haired chef would never reciprocate his feelings. He wasn't even gay, or at least Sebastian hadn't admitted it. Not many were as open as he was when it came to his sexuality.

"Good night, Sebastian," Ronald said with a grin before waving to the rest of the chefs, as always William wasn't far behind. "In a rush?" asked the Pậtissier curiously as he looked at the two. It was no secret that the pair was dating, and Sebastian seemed comfortable around them. Claude sighed as he watched the man interact the the Head Waiter and Sommelier. "Yes, there is a wonderful bottle of dry red wine I've been meaning to open, and I believe tonight is just the night to do so," said William with a hint of happiness. Even off the job William was trying new bottles and experimenting with different combinations of flavor for the perfect harmony. It was admirable even to Claude, "Oh, sounds like you can't wait," Sebastian said with a grin, "I'm sure it will be there when you arrive, it's not like it can run away," he teased. The Sommelier chuckled and shook his head, "No it would probably stagger, I may have a chance then," he remarked.

Sebastian grinned and nodded as he waved goodnight to the pair, he sighed as he picked up one of his knives and began to wash it. He had to see what was going through the Pậtissier's head, wounds like that weren't something to play with, he needed someone to assist him. Claude's head hung as he attempted to summon what was left of his courage, this morning hurt. He didn't expect Sebastian to run out of the room and jump into a cab. The Pậtissier was so frightened he felt the need to run, it bothered Claude. "Perhaps Alois is right," he muttered as he dried the last of his knives and slipped it into the black bag.

Sebastian had finally finished cleaning his station and was packed up ready to go. Claude was about to call to him when the doors which lead to the floor opened. It was unusual he thought that everyone had left, he turned to see the last person he ever thought would enter the kitchen standing in the threshold, Ciel. "Ready to go?" the slate haired owner asked with a smile. Sebastian nodded and walked over to the young man, "Good, let's get something to eat, I'm famished," Ciel commented as he walked through the kitchen with Sebastian. Claude's lips parted as he stared at them. There was no way what Alois said was true, "After dinner I will show you the apartment," Ciel remarked as he left through the back door. The door swung closed, and he stood there unsure of what just happened.

His lips parted and he felt as though someone had forced all of the air out of his lungs. The muscular chef stumbled backward into the counter. "I told you he was interested," commented the soft voice of the bartender who had given him the warning. Claude bowed his head and drew a deep breath, "I didn't think it was possible," he whispered. A smile appeared on Alois' lips as he walked in front of the head chef and placed a hand on Claude's chest. "Now will you allow me to comfort you?" asked Alois softly, his eyes danced with mischief and sorrow. "Ciel is your unrequited love, isn't he?" asked Claude after a moment. The blond bartender looked slightly stunned, and his façade of happiness faded. Pain, that was what seemed to bring the pair together, "Yes," whispered Alois. The Head Chef hummed as he looked at Alois, he didn't know what to do. Ciel didn't take people back to his apartment unless he had one thing in mind. Elizabeth had left for Paris, which meant he was alone for the next two weeks. It was taking everything he had not break, he wanted desperately to run after them and prove himself wrong.

"I suppose we could lick our wounds," Claude whispered as he looked at the bartender, "to numb the pain." Alois stood on his toes as he laced his arms around Claude's neck and pressed his lips to the chef's. Claude had given up all his urge to resist as he felt Alois' soft tongue sweep over his bottom lip begging for entrance. He wasn't attracted to the blond, yet the urge to find someone to take all his pain was far too great for him to be selective. Claude slipped one of his large hands around Alois' waist and pushed him closer to him, his other hand slipped into the blonde's hair as he parted his lips. To become tangled in one another to simply forget the pain, wasn't ideal, but would have to work. Claude slipped his tongue into the bartender's mouth, earning a gasp from the young man as he caressed his tongue. He didn't taste like Sebastian would, he was bitter like the liquor he served. Alois moaned as their tongues tangled in a battle for dominance. Claude slowly pulled back and asked, "Yours or mine?"

Alois was flushed and his hair a mess, "Yours" he panted. Claude nodded as he grabbed his bag and left the kitchen for a night of empty sex.

* * *

**Translation:**

**1.) **_**"**__Mrs Kiss Kiss Bang, she's not a fool. Extraordinary and oh so cool, When I feel the touch of her sweet lips, I know this is a devil's kiss."_

The lyrics are from "Muchacha Kiss Kiss Bang" by Alex Christensen

Lyric courtesy of The Diggiloo Thrush

* * *

_**Side note:** The playlist is continuously updated so, if you are interested in any pieces used while writing this piece, or the song Alois is grooving to, feel free to check it out. The link is on my profile. _


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Emptiness**

Sebastian followed Ciel into his apartment building; he stared in shock at the sheer height of the structure before entering. It was nothing like he was accustomed to, clean lines, polished glass and winding steel. "Good evening Mr. Phantomhive," called one of the men in the lobby as Ciel walked by. His movements were swift as he marched by, he had no interest in stopping for a moment, it would be a waste of his time. "You will receive a key tomorrow as well as the pin for my pen house," he commented as he called the lift and slipped inside. Sebastian's eyes fell on the panel covered in buttons with the number of floors on it. Ciel was quick to select his floor and type a pin into the keypad below the columns which represented the floors. Ciel practically lived in an ivory tower, high above everyone and with an ample amount of power to do as he pleased.

His very upbringing was radically different from Sebastian's. The foyer was practically crusted in marble and gold, "You own the building," muttered Sebastian in shock, his eyes were glued to the panel. Ciel let out a sigh before leaning on the back of the lift, "Yeah, I own several properties, my father owns a majority of the companies and properties under the Phantomhive name," he replied. The lift came to a halt causing Sebastian to stumble forward a little, Ciel seemed unfazed and continued through the doors, he had a large hallway lined with windows, trees and statues. Sebastian's eyes widened, and he felt his jaw drop to the spruce flooring beneath his well worn shoes. Ciel ignored this and continued down the hallway, "You will be living in the previous cook's room in the servants area," responded Ciel as he walked down the hallway, his hands were in his pockets and he seemed rather relaxed. Sebastian was still frozen in one spot as he looked at the stone floor, "Your duties are going to be as follows, you will make breakfast before you leave for work and dinner when you return. Days in which you are available to make lunch you will do so," there was a pause and Ciel looked over his shoulder. His sapphire eyes narrowed as he asked, "Are you listening?" his tone was clipped, and Sebastian jumped.

"Sorry," he mumbled before quickening his pace to keep up with Ciel. The young man shook his head as he entered the apartment. The apartment itself was strictly modern with clean lines, black and white leather furniture, steel and glass. He stared at the exotic wood shelves and random items from around the world, "The mansion is traditional, I happen to like this style though," he commented as he walked through the living room. he had a large fireplace in the middle which, made Sebastian feel even more intimidated. "You will also be expected to cook for yourself," he commented.

The raven haired chef nodded, he had never been in a space this expensive in his life. In fact, the most elaborate place he had ever been was the restaurant. His red eyes followed the sleek owner as he slipped out of his navy blue suit jacket and pulled off his tie, "Okay, the kitchen is where you will spend most of your time," Ciel remarked as he wound his tie around his hand and slipped it into his trouser pocket. The kitchen was just around a frosted glass wall with a mural painted on it. Just around the wall was a stainless steel kitchen similar to the one at Ciel, with Oak cabinets and granite countertops. There were two massive ovens, an array with eight gas burners and island and he noticed the wine chiller. Sitting by the stove was a vase with cooking utensils, "This is the kitchen," said Ciel with a hint of boredom.

Sebastian's fingers trailed the smooth, cool black granite countertops. There were so many different possibilities waiting in this kitchen, "Are there limits?" asked Sebastian as he opened one of the cabinets and found nearly all the same spices used in the kitchen at the restaurant. They were each stored in airtight metal canisters and the labels were engraved on them. "No, it's whatever you can make," said Ciel smoothly. Sebastian slipped his fingers around a canister and began to wonder if Claude's kitchen was just as well stocked. Sebastian nodded after a moment and placed it back on the shelf, for the life of him he couldn't figure out why the young man had a full kitchen in his apartment when he didn't even cook.

Ciel clapped his hands together, "Okay, I've eaten so tonight you have off, you will also have tomorrow morning off so you can move out of that dump you call an apartment," Ciel commented. Sebastian grit his teeth after hearing that his apartment was a dump but made no motion to yell. It was pointless, Ciel owned him. The Pậtissier nodded submissively, he had no say in how he was going to live from this point on. "Alright, I'll show you to your room," the slate haired young man stated as he turned on his heel and lead the chef down the hallway. He continued to walk until he reached a door at the end of it, which lead into another section of the massive apartment. The hallways were slightly narrower and were painted a beige color. It smelled of flowers and lemons, which made Sebastian, wince. He didn't like the smell of flowers as much as spices, Claude's apartment had smelt of rosemary and thyme. Sebastian paused, he was thinking about Claude's place and comparing it to Ciel's, the Pậtissier shook his head and closed his eyes. Why he had been doing such a thing confused him, they were two very different people. Ciel was the night and Claude was like the day, two different airs, two different apartments and two very different outlooks on food.

Ciel opened a plain white door with a brass knob, "This is your room," he said swiftly. The door swung open and Sebastian paused as he looked at the large white room, it was slightly larger than his entire flat, closet included. There was a birch floor with a gray area rug, like the rest of the apartment the room consisted of three colors, black, white and gray. There was a full-sized bed, with a desk, several empty bookcases, a closet and a chest of drawers as well as two night stands. The bedding was a dark navy blue, he slowly entered and looked around, it looked as though no one had been inside of it for a great deal of time. He could see a thin film of dust on the shelves of the bookcase. Absently he began to wonder how long Ciel had been without a personal cook. "You may do with this room as you please," he commented. Sebastian placed his knife bag on the bed and slowly walked over to one of the windows with a window seat. He looked at the view of the city and touched the glass, he was higher up than he realized.

Sebastian was silent as he felt the cold glass beneath his fingers, "No pets of course, I'm allergic to most animal dander," Ciel added, it was as though he felt the need to fill the space. The Pậtissier nodded as he looked over the room, he had no complaint, the fact that the entire room was the actually larger than the flat he had been living in was far more than intimidating. "The bathroom?" asked Sebastian slowly as he looked at a pair of impatient sapphire eyes. Slender shoulders lifted as Ciel heaved a sigh, "Down the hall about two door, it's on the left," he replied. Everything seemed surreal, he was being taken from a state of poverty and given the chance to taste the forbidden fruit of high class.

"I will be in the master bedroom, if you need anything ask May Rin or Bardroy, they will assist," he commented before stretching his arms over his head and yawning. He took a look at his watch and rubbed his neck, "I'm off to bed, we will go over the contracts tomorrow, tonight just sleep. You still look like shit," commented Ciel before he marched off to bed. He honestly looked like a little Earl as he did so. Clearly that aura of nobility was genetic, Vincent had it as well, at least that was what Sebastian could remember. "I now belong to the Little Lord," he whispered as he took a seat on the soft bed. He could smell the lavender scented fabric softener used, the sheets were fresh and the scent began to numb mind. The chef slipped off his shoes and sprawled out on the bed, his red eyes gazed lazily up at the ceiling. So much had happened; the notion that Ciel even expected him to sleep confused him.

~~xXx~~

Excitement, it was like a current of electricity, which drove the pair into a haze of desire. Claude slammed Alois into the door of his apartment, his knee between the blonde's legs nudging the growing bulge in Alois' pants. One of Claude's massive hands pinned Alois' hands smaller ones high above his head and held them in place, ensuring that he wouldn't be able to escape. The Head Chef's free hand was pressed against Alois' lean chest as his lips crashed into the bartender's. They moved rapidly, hungrily as though the chef had been starved for eons and now desired just a taste of passion. Claude's lips moved smoothly over Alois' they were supple and hot, as his tongue swept over the seam between the blonde's lips. He was begging for admittance into the mouth which had made the offer. Hazy azure eyes fluttered closed as Claude pushed him further into the wooden door.

A moan left the smaller of the pair as Claude's hand traveled down the small of his back, without hesitation, the Head Chef slipped his long tongue into the young man's mouth. It moved with grace as their tongues tangled, fighting feverishly for dominance. He didn't taste sweet, Alois tasted as bitter as the liquor he served. So very bitter, dry and very empty. Claude knew this kind of dance well, the dance of empty love, something he practiced like a ritual as a student. Claude pulled back and sank his teeth into one of Alois' now swollen lips, "Claude, the apartment," whimpered Alois after Claude had released his grip on the young man's lip. Alois' face was flushed as he shivered with pleasure, Claude hummed as he kissed down his chin. His lips pressed against the soft skin below, it was smooth and clean, he could tell Alois shaved that morning. Skin, a taste which he had been craving, at this moment anyone's would do, as long as it could chase away Sebastian.

Claude's eyes opened as he chuckled, Alois' heart was pounding and he could hear it, his free hand rubbed circles into his back as he nudged Alois' growing arousal. Another delectable moan left the bartender's lips. The Head Chef slowly licked Alois' jaw before whispering, "Jacket, the left pocket." He released one of the blonde's hands as he reached for the key card to Claude's apartment. All the while Claude debated where to ravage the boy, he could hear the card slip into the lock there was a satisfying click as the lock opened. Alois lifted one of his legs and wrapped it around Claude's waist, rubbing their crotches together. A smirk of satisfaction threatened Claude's lips as Alois then wrapped his arms around the Head Chef's neck. His small hands gripped at the back of Claude's coat greedily, in an attempt to shrink the space between them and feel even more of one another.

The head chef slipped a hand down Alois' thigh while the other held the small of his back, in a swift motion the door flew open and Claude spun them into the room. With a bang Alois was pressed into the wall opposite of the door. "Claude," gasped Alois after feeling the wall make contact with his back. Golden eyes swept over hazy azure orbs and then down his face, long fingers slipped behind the bow tie as he unclipped the piece and cast it to the floor carelessly. At this point he didn't care where it landed, all that mattered was that it was out of the way. Skilled fingers popped each of the buttons on the vest open and brushed over the slender shoulders of the now squirming man pressed against the wall. Alois arched his back slightly to slip off the vest.

Alois and Claude pressed their lips together once again, this time Claude allowed the younger of the pair to slip his tongue into Claude's mouth. Alois' kiss was sloppy and less skilled, however still just as hot. He couldn't determine if it was the fact that he hadn't done it in a while or the liquor that the bartender tasted of that intoxicated him. Small hands twitched in vain as they attempted to slip the longer coat off of Claude, Alois whined in frustration as his every attempt failed. "What do you want?" asked Claude teasingly as he slowly began unfastening the buttons on Alois' shirt. The blond was panting and he whimpered, "I want to touch you too." He sounded as though he had been denied cake and was now begging for a slice.

"Oh?" asked Claude teasingly, his voice was just above a whisper and he pushed as much carnal desire as possible into it. He watched the young man ream and whimper, "Yes," he gasped as Claude gently brushed his finger over his skin. Long piano fingers slipped over the slender white column and traced dip in Alois' collar bone. "Then do so," replied the chef with a chuckle as he slowly kissed down the young man's neck, careful not to leave any visible marks as he descended. "Ah... Claude!" Alois gasped, Claude felt his body tense as he ran his tongue over the a patch of skin near the base of his neck and sucked. "You," he gasped as Claude sank his teeth into Alois' collar bone, his other hand came up and gently played with one of his nipples, "Tease," he gasped and shuddered with pleasure as Claude continued to caress the growing bulge in the bartender's pants.

"Tease? I thought you liked it when I am a tease," he replied as he pulled Alois' shirt off and looked at the alabaster skin underneath, it was taut and looked as though the sun had never touched it. Alois didn't respond as Claude slowly pulled back and released him, "Then undress me," he commanded, his golden eyes were hooded and his lips were quirked up in a grin. His glasses shined in the light as he looked at Alois, "If you think you can," he stated with an air of arrogance. Azure eyes narrowed as he playfully stood on his tippy toes so he was eye level with the tall golden eyed chef. "Believe me Spider, I can do more than you know," he whispered as he removed Claude's coat and threw it onto a chair.

One of Claude's thin eyebrows lifted, Alois had piqued his curiosity, "Really?" he asked playfully as Alois tugged Claude's shirt free of his trousers so he could unbutton it. Alois was confident, most of the partners he had in the past hands trembled when it came to undressing him. Then again Alois had slept with a number of partners before him. Alois' teeth sank into his lower lip, biting it and teasing Claude even more. The Head Chef wanted to sink his own teeth into that plump lip again, "You know you looked amazing in that three piece the other day," Alois hummed as his fingers brushed down the front of Claude's shirt. His touch was light as he tugged one of the buttons of the plum colored button down the man was wearing.

A whisper of excitement ran down Claude's spine and he felt his pants grew even tighter as Alois popped each button open with ease. His small hands spread across Claude's toned chest, azure eyes widened with admiration as he pushed the shirt out of his way. "Wow," Alois whispered as he pressed a kiss to one of Claude's pectorals, "You look even better without the suit," he whispered. Part of Claude began to wonder how many times Alois had used that line, "Good god, you look delicious," Alois commented as he kissed down Claude's chest, his soft tongue circled Claude's naval, small hands rested on Claude's hips gently kneading him through the fabric. The sound of Claude's belt being unfastened echoed through the room, he hissed in appreciation as Alois unbuttoned his jeans. His aching member was finally going to be freed from its confines. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his reflection and gazed at the mirror as Alois took the zipper of his fly between his teeth and pulled it down. He hummed as he slipped his fingers into the mop of blond hair, "Want to taste?" asked Claude darkly as he licked his own lips.

Alois' fingers tugged at the waistband of his black trousers, they were hot and delicate as they moved, and ironically Claude felt as though he were one of those countless glasses the young man handled in an evening. "Of course," Alois replied, his blue eyes gazed up at Claude through his lashes, they were clouded with lust and desire. With a tug Claude's pants fell around his ankles, and Alois was slipping his hands down Claude's hips. He had selected a pair of black silk boxers that morning; he loved the feeling of silk on his skin. His golden eyes were locked on Alois as he slipped his hand into Claude's boxers and gently rubbed his aching member. In moments he had Claude's length in his hands and was stroking it. "You're huge," whispered Alois as the young man licked his lips. A chuckle left Claude's lips as he gently caressed Alois' cheek. "Would you expect anything less?" he asked curiously.

Pearl white teeth sank into Alois' lip once again as he shook his head, his grip tightened a little as he grew slightly bolder. With little warning the young man licked the tip and slowly took Claude into his mouth. Claude's head tipped back and he hissed as his fingers slipped into the mop of soft blond hair belonging to the bartender. Alois purred as he slowly circled the tip with his tongue and then descended upon it, taking as much as he could into his mouth. It was hot, wet, and tight, it was clear Alois had more than ample experience in this. Claude groaned as he felt Alois suck on him as hard as he could, the pressure was amazing. That skilled tongue traveled down his shaft as Alois pulled away and licked his cock string. "You're too good at this," Claude whispered as he felt Alois' small hands tug his boxers down. A hum left the blond as he slipped the black article that had blocked him.

Alois' finger teased Claude's slit as he sucked on one of Claude's balls, causing Claude to groan. He was growing impatient and yanked Alois' head so he was looking up, "Enough, I want to feel you," he growled before pulling the young man to his feet and crushing their lips together. The bartender complied as he allowed Claude to remove his pants, Alois' skin was soft but nothing compared to Sebastian's. Yet Claude had no right to complain, he wanted this, he wanted someone to numb the pain of being rejected before even confessing. Claude's large hands caressed Alois' bare back, he could feel the old welts from the abuse the bartender had endured. Years of the riding crop and whip had left scars on his back and heart. Before moving Claude stepped out of his pants and used his toes to slip out of his shoes. Claude pressed Alois' slender body to his own, he could feel the heat seep into his cold heart.

"Where would you like to do this?" asked Claude with a note of curiosity as he hand traveled down Alois' thigh, with a yank he was holding the limb and grinding their erections together. "Anywhere you like," replied Alois with a grin. Claude gave Alois' round ass a squeeze, "I see," he replied as he listened to Alois gasp from the sudden squeeze. His fingers continued to trace down the young man's spine before it circled his entrance, he prodded it and teased as much as Alois had done while he was driving to the apartment. The blond mewed as he pressed himself into Claude's chest and trembled with excitement, "And I'm the tease," Alois breathed as Claude slipped one of his fingers into him.

His finger plunged into the tight, wet and hot cavern, he could tell Alois was extremely aroused. As soon as he had forced his finger in, he felt the muscles around it tighten, squeezing him begging for more. Claude licked the shell of Alois' ear as he felt the young man cling to him, "You like this don't you?" he asked. He could feel Alois' hot cheeks and hear his panting, "Y-Yes," he stammered as Claude slipped a second finger into him. Alois' panting grew louder as Claude felt his temperature rise even more. Claude chuckled at the wanton man clinging to him as he began to thrust his fingers into the tight bartender, searching for that bundle of nerves which would make the young man scream. He could feel Alois' leg wrap around him as his hips ground their erections together. He smiled mischievously as he brushed over the bundle causing the young man to shiver with anticipation and cry out, "Claude! More!"

"As you wish," Claude replied as he slipped a third finger in and began to scissor his fingers. Alois was moaning and whimpering as his long fingers swept over those sensitive nerves of his prostate. He was tight and rolled his hips to match Claude's thrusting fingers, "Claude, my ass, I want you!" demanded the trembling mass. Claude grinned with glee as he guided Alois backward so his back was touching the wall. "You like walls huh?" asked Alois as Claude positioned his aching member at the young man's entrance. A smile curved the Head Chef's lips as he replied, "I am the spider after all, we like walls, ceilings and corners." Before Alois could even utter a syllable Claude snapped his hips forward plunging into the young man, eliciting a cry of pleasure. "Oh fuck!" Alois gasped as he threw his head back, "You are bigger than I even realized!" he cried as tears streaked his cheeks.

Claude slowly licked one of the trails and whispered, "May I?" He had to move, to erase it all and drown in ecstasy. Alois pressed his lips to Claudes and replied, "Fuck me hard and fast." That was more than enough for the Head Chef as he began to ram into the young man. Alois' entrance squeezed him harshly providing delectable friction, Claude's large hands rested on Alois' hips as he moved. He closed his eyes and felt that warm wet entrance envelop him. "Claude," moaned Alois as he moved. His golden eyes snapped open as he watched Alois moan and ream, "More, harder," he cried. A trail of drool formed on the side of his face as Claude picked up pace and instructed, "Wrap your arms around my neck."

The blond bartender was hesitant but complied only to scream with pleasure as Claude shifted the young man's weight off the wall so he was forced down on his aching member. In this position he was forcing himself as far as he could inside of the young man. "So deep," gasped Alois as he clung to Claude, the scent of sweat and the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. Nothing else mattered but sating this hunger for each other's bodies. Claude closed his eyes and allowed it all to fade, "The bed, Claude," Alois managed as the head chef rammed into the young as hard as he could. His pace increased as he whispered, "We will get there, in time." He could feel Alois' member dripping as it smeared it's precum against his abs. Alois whimpered as Claude continued to force himself deeper into the bartender, "We have all night," he whispered as he licked Alois' ear.

"Claude, I can't," cried Alois, Claude felt as though he were burning, instinct had taken over. Sex was simple for him, it was all about the climax and how to get it. He chuckled, "How on earth did you last with other men?" he teased. Alois' eyes widened as Claude began his assault on his prostate, "AH!... oh-h, FUCK CLAUDE!" he cried out as the Head chef sank his teeth into that pale column of skin. He could feel Alois crimping around him and knew the young man was going to release soon. "Want to come?" asked Claude with a dark smile. He tightened his grip on the bartender's smooth ass as continued. "Y-YES!" Alois cried out, his panting and moans filled Claude's ears, spurring him onward.

Claude's long pink tongue slipped out of his lips and trailed the area of skin he had just bitten, "Then come," he whispered huskily as he pulled out as far as he could and with a snap rammed into Alois' prostate. "CLAUDE!" Alois screamed at the top of his lungs, his back arched and his head tilted back. Slender arms released the powerful shoulders of the Head Chef as he trembled in ecstasy. Alois' semen covered their chests as he came; he was covered in a sheen of sweat and looked as though he were sky-high. Claude wrapped his arms around the young man to keep him from falling to the floor, Alois' chest was heaving, his perky pink nipples were swollen and served as the only color on his chest. Azure eyes were closed as Alois slowly fell from his place in the sky, "Don't think we are done yet, Alois," commented Claude. He was still deep inside the young man, his member thick and throbbing.

The blonde leaned against Claude's chest and stared in shock, "You're still hard," he whispered. Claude grinned, he had more stamina than Alois was used to, then again he hadn't done it in a while. "Yes, to the bed," he declared as he pulled out of the young man and picked Alois up. It was going to be a long and hot night, which Alois didn't seem to mind. Even if it meant he wouldn't be able to walk in the morning. In a swift motion Alois was on the bed and Claude was a few steps before him. "You really like purple, don't you?" asked Alois as he sat up and ran his fingers over the material. Claude swept a hand through his hair, "It's a nice color," he replied. Alois was sitting on Claude's bed, he had spread his legs and traced his chest with the pads of his fingers, beckoning for Claude to continue. His white skin contrasted with the purple, and the dim light from the city outside his window seemed to make Alois' skin glow. His blond hair was a mess and he smiled as his fingers trailed down the inside of his legs, "You know how to fuck, I'll give you that," commented Alois.

Claude took another step forward and chuckled, "The question is, can you make me come." Alois leaned back on his elbows and looked at him, "Naturally," he replied with a smirk. His body flexed as though he were a feline as he got on all fours of the massive bed. His legs spread as he propped his ass in the air for Claude to see. His chest rested on the mattress, and he looked up at Claude, the tip of his index finger on his left hand was between his teeth and he hissed. "Then finish," he commanded. It was clear at this point that Alois couldn't get enough, "Don't cry to me if you can't walk," said Claude with a grin as he took off his rectangular glasses and placed them on the night stand. His hands slowly touched a trembling body that had been displayed before him. Claude's eyes drifted to the swollen and twitching entrance he had been in not too long ago. He smiled as he caressed his hips and slipped into the trembling young man. He didn't like this position as much, however he had a feeling Alois couldn't stand anymore.

His fingers gripped slender hips as he thrusted into the small bartender again, his eyes closed as he listened to Alois moan loudly, it was rather harsh to listen to but enough of a turn on for him to continue. "Claude, you're going to break my hips," whimpered Alois as Claude leaned over him and bit his shoulder. "You were the one who asked for this," he whispered as he continued, he was approaching release and realized that the young man was hard again. He gently palmed the young man's erection and began to rub it. Alois' hips moved in tandem with his own and he whimpered, "So good, fuck."

Claude grinned as he sped up, his thrusting became sloppy as the end approached, he was lost in a haze, drowning in passion as he pushed everything else out of his mind. His heart was pounding in his ears, his lips had parted, and he groaned as he continued burrowing further and further into the young man. "I can't," gasped Alois as Claude gripped his hips. His hand gave Alois' throbbing member a final stroke before the blond released all over Claude's hand. The Head Chef's head tipped back as he let out a groan and released his seed inside of the young man, he loved the pressure and release. His eyes closed as he felt himself soar in the clouds above the city. His mind was finally free.

There was silence in the room as the pair attempted to control their breathing again. Alois was practically wheezing from the rough round the pair had just completed. Claude slowly pulled out of him and rolled onto his back, somehow it wasn't enough. He groaned as he closed his eyes, the one he wanted wasn't in his bed, even after that Sebastian's lean body was in his mind. Those playful burgundy red eyes, supple lips which often were coiled in a coy smirk, his delicate hands that crafted sweets, and his beautiful silky black hair. He felt the bed shift as Alois slipped under the covers, "I can't understand why Ash left you, especially after a fuck like that," he remarked. There was silence in the room, of course Alois knew about Claude's relationship with Ash, the number one Pậtissier in London, and his ex.

It wasn't a secret that the pair were into one another, every guest knew it since the pair would walk onto the floor willingly and explain their dishes to new customers. "I do," whispered Claude as he slowly got up and walked into the bathroom. Sebastian wasn't like the cold-blooded Ash Landers; he was warmer, innocent and affectionate. Ash was simply after Claude's recipes and family relations; in fact it had been Ash who proved Claude's father that he was right. Golden eyes gazed lazily at the mirror, he felt worse after screwing Alois, not better. Staring back at him was a man with messy black hair, sad-looking golden eyes and pale skin which had gathered a sheen of sweat as a testament to his activities earlier that night. Most men looked refreshed and happy after enjoying themselves, but he didn't. He oddly felt guilty, he hadn't cheated on Sebastian, since the man was never his to begin with, and yet there he was standing there looking at himself and wondering just what he was thinking when he accepted the offer.


	15. Chapter 15

_Thank you guys for hanging in there, I also want to thank all of you who are reviewing. You will see PMs soon, I've been really busy with my job, they are training me on the register as well as the bakery and on the slicer. So this chapter and not breaking it into two is the full portion. I apologize in advance for the length or any typos I missed. _

_Thank you,_

_Kuro._

* * *

**Chapter 15: Dessert 6: Withered Flowers of Dreams**

Red eyes glanced over the few boxes in the room; he had a total of two boxes plus the trunk. He sighed as he looked them over, to think that his life fit in three boxes and a trunk. Everything he owned could be set inside each cardboard container, tapes up, labeled with a marker and catalogued. Part of him wondered if he really was worthy of his job and life. His existence has been filled with torment and pain, he had no idea what Ciel would do to him. Sebastian was well aware that his life now belonged to the young man, and Ciel could do as he pleased with it. There was a loud knock on his door, "That must be the movers," he muttered as he walked toward the door and opened it. Standing dressed in white with a cap on his head was the man who would help him load his life into a truck. "Hello are you Mr. Michaelis?" he asked with a smile. It was cold and told Sebastian all that mattered was getting him out of his flat and into Ciel's penthouse.

"Yes," replied Sebastian as he allowed the man to enter his flat, he looked around and paused. There was silence for a moment as he looked at the boxes, he was clearly expecting more, "Is this all of it?" he asked after a moment, there was a note of disbelief in his voice. Sebastian nodded and said slowly, "Yeah, that's all of it." The man looked over his shoulder and seemed slightly apologetic, "I see, well then let's get these on the trunk," he said enthusiastically before picking up one of the brown boxes. The Pậtissier nodded as he picked up the second one and left the trunk for when they returned.

Ironically he had more when he lived in Paris, however he didn't have the money to take it with him when he moved so he had given it to a handful of friends. Keeping only what was the most important to him, it seemed to be as though every time something happened there was a brown box close by that he could shove his life into. The day he left Paris, Sebastian swore he felt his heart being ripped out of his chest. He wasn't as attached to the flat he had now as that one. He chuckled as he thought about it, it had a single window, shared a bathroom with other tenants, and the door would get stuck from time to time. Yet the view was to die for, now he was in dreary and dank London. He hummed as he helped the mover pick up his trunk it was the heaviest, filled with books, clothing and memories.

Once the trunk was loaded, Sebastian watched the mover slam to door of the massive truck closed. He honestly thought it was amusing that Ciel had sent it, "The furniture?" asked the man after a moment. Sebastian slipped his hands into his pockets and replied, "Sold, there is a new tenant who doesn't have any, so it's his." The landlord had already closed the contract with Sebastian and was going to have someone new move in that morning. Ciel must have called to terminate it, Sebastian was irritated that Ciel hadn't bothered to allow him to take care of it. He could tell already that they weren't going to get along. Ciel was high handed and the type to have others bow at his feet and do as he commanded without a second thought. "Okay," the man stated as he walked around the truck and jumped into the driver's side. Sebastian followed suit and sat on the passenger side, he had a new life, and not because he wanted it. "It looks like I'm a good, and not a person," he muttered as he looked at his hands. He began to realize he was a fool for thinking he could be anything more than an asset.

"What was that?" asked the mover curiously as he continued down the street, Sebastian watched the buildings improve in condition as they drove uptown. Slowly the dirty windows, graffiti covered walls and ragged people turned into a place of shining white and silver. With shop windows that had been polished to perfection, clothes with far too many zeros on their price tags were displayed on the other side. Women walked with bags filled with brand name clothes chatting away on their mobiles, men dashed buy in suits looking perfect in every way. He really was trading his flat for the glistening silver, gold and ivory palaces of the wealthy. The truck came to a stop before Ciel's building and turned to the back of the building to use the service elevator, "They don't want us to scuff up the marble floor in the foyer," commented the mover. Sebastian looked at the two large metal doors, he knew the real reason he didn't belong. He was Ciel's newest pet, not a chef.

~~xXx~~

A silver case sat on Ciel's Living room table, he had prepared the money and Sebastian was downstairs, all that was left was to hand it off to Angela. Once that was complete Sebastian belonged to him and would never be able to leave his side. Ciel grinned, perhaps this game was the most amusing yet, he knew Alois had slept with Claude it wouldn't take the blond long to get into the man's pants. He hummed as he stared at his mobile, Alois also hadn't replied to his text which meant his hips hurt too badly to go looking for his phone. That was honestly the only time the blond didn't respond. "I will win, Sebastian has been forced to move in with me, it's only a matter of time before I crush him," Ciel mumbled darkly.

The ringing of his mobile split the air causing him to jump a little, it was an unknown number which meant either Grell had just gotten a new phone and was calling to give him the number or it was Angela. He was hoping for the second, he had zero interest in hearing Grell tell him about the wonderful night he had with a tall dark and handsome man, only to get mugged. To this day he had no idea who would both sleep with Grell and mug him, both seemed dangerous. The redhead tended to be violent and rather unpredictable. Ciel swiped his finger across the screen and answered, "Phantomhive." There was a pause followed by a chuckle on the other end of the line, it was sensual in sound and far too light to belong to Grell. "It's nice to see that you bark at everyone, dear earl. I have a feeling that your bark is worse than your bite though," the woman replied. Ciel crossed his legs, "Who is this?" he demanded. He had to keep this woman in check or she would attempt to break off their deal.

"Angela Blanc," she replied smoothly, he heard her blow a puff of smoke on the other end. He figured she would smoke as she did business she seemed like the type. "Nice to hear from you, I have the funds," Ciel stated smoothly, there was a pause and he could tell she hadn't been expecting that. "Cash, in Euros, unmarked and untraceable," he replied as he grinned. Well not every business was innocent, his father's was no exception. After all Vincent was one of those people who operated in the dark, toys were a way in which he atoned for his sins. "I was under the impression it would take five business days," she stated slowly, he could hear the distrust in her voice.

Ciel was wearing a smug grin, of course he had gone out of his way, he wanted to make sure this disappeared, "Let's just say I pulled a few strings," replied Ciel. The longer this hung out in the open the worse this would get. Ciel knew better than anyone how to sink another business, it was one of the first lessons Vincent taught him. The second was making things vanish, "I see, the little earl takes after his father, Vincent must be proud," she sneered. That was perhaps the greatest tip-off, she used his father's first name, and clearly she knew what the Phantomhives were really like. The truth behind the façade of flourishing companies, elegant restaurants and lavish parties. "Like father like son, now then about the drop," he commented, "When, where and details."

He could hear pages shifting in the background as Angela went looking for something, "Not a local I see," commented Ciel with laughter in his voice. He had a feeling she was looking for a print out. Angela sighed and replied, "No the morons I have working for me are useless, good help is so hard to find these days." Ciel swept a hand through his hair, he knew that one a little too well, Grell had a tendency of scaring people away, Mei Rin dropped everything and Bard, well there was a reason the man wasn't allowed near his kitchen. "You're preaching to the choir," Ciel commented as he remembered the explosion that nearly took out his restaurant because Bard thought he was helping Claude. He had honestly never seen the head chef look that angry, it was as though he had been possessed by a demon as he threw cutlery at the man and kicked him out. Claude's aim was spot on as well, it was a wonder Bard had escaped unscathed. She hummed and replied, "Your staff seems capable, at least at the restaurant." Ciel swept a hand through his hair, he could tell she was buying herself time to look for the page.

"When Grell behaves yes, if not we just tie him up and leave him in the back, gagged," replied Ciel. She found the sheet and hummed with a note of triumph, "Gagged?" she asked curiously and Ciel groaned. He knew that part wouldn't get by her. "Let's just say he insists on being a lady even when he's a full grown man and curses us out over it," he replied. He could still remember how hard William fought to get the crazed redhead to calm down, naturally he didn't tie Grell up, Soma had stopped him. Agni decided it was more beneficial to have Grell wear the red outfit he wanted, minus the heels.

"The drop will be just outside the Tower of London, fitting isn't it?" she asked teasingly. She was having far too much fun with selecting locations; of course she would pick one of London's most famous places of death and torture as well as the crown jewels. "Yeah, the time?" Ciel asked with irritation. He wanted to get this over with, "Fifteen minutes from now, don't look for us, we will find you," she stated before hanging up. "How cliché can she be?" he asked as he got up from the sofa and snatched the case, Sebastian would just have to wait until Ciel handed off the case.

~~xXx~~

The smell of paprika, onions, basil and tomatoes filled the flat as the sun rose, it was a wonderful medley. Claude rolled over and hummed, he loved the scent, in his opinion it made his flat, home. There was a sizzle in the distance as something hit the pan that was coated in butter. A grin swept across the chef's lips, tomato, onion, basil and mozzarella crêpes sounded wonderful. He could smell the eggs and purred with delight, it was cruel when his mind decided to make breakfast for him and he wasn't near the kitchen. "Coffee sounds good too," he mumbled before turning over and snuggling back into the pillow. The smell of eggs became even stronger and was accompanied by the scent of charcoal. He didn't remember having a bag in the kitchen, it wasn't time to grill and he would never grill eggs. He heard a familiar, "FUCK!" as the fire alarm went off.

Claude jumped to attention and slipped his glasses on as he dashed out of his room. His golden eyes widened with shock as he stared at Alois, the young man was leaning against counter and holding the spatula he had used. His eyes were wide with terror as he stared at the pan which, was now aflame, clearly not on purpose either. Claude reached around the corner and pulled a red fire extinguisher, in seconds the pin was out and the white foam covered the pan. A fog filled the room from the smoke as Claude continued to put the flames out. By the time he had managed to snuff them out the counter was covered in the white cloud like foam. The air was thick with smoke and difficult to breathe, it stung the golden eyed head chef's throat and nose. He placed the fire extinguisher down and opened one of the windows to air out what was left of his kitchen.

Alois had the spatula in his hand and was scrapping what had been eggs off of his frying pan; obviously he was going to have to replace it. "Alois what were you **trying** to do?" asked Claude, he purposely placed a great deal of emphasis on the word "trying". Mornings with Alois were never a good thing, from dealing with his hangover and drunken ways to him attempting to be romantic, something in Claude's flat was destroyed in his wake. "I wanted to make you breakfast," he said with a hint of sadness, his lower lip protruded slightly as he gave a childish pout. Claude sighed, he didn't like it when Alois attempted to cook, things always went horribly wrong. "I see, so you were making eggs, and," he paused as he looked at the second pan, "soldiers?" he asked as he looked at the other black pan. He would have to replace them both. "Soldiers? I didn't make sausage, that's bacon," he replied with pride.

Claude paled and stared at the pan in utter confusion, "Bacon?" he asked slowly as he pointed at it. Something had gone very wrong somewhere along the line. Alois nodded enthusiastically, "Yup." Claude was silent as he attempted to piece together something to tell the small bartender who was parading around in a pair of his boxers and a shirt of his. He sighed and made a note to wash those as well, "Um, what happened?" he asked slowly, he wasn't dense he knew it was burnt, but he had never seen it burnt to such a degree. Alois picked up the pan and jabbed it at Claude, "What do you mean! It's still bacon! Taste it!" he commanded. Claude shook his head and held up his hand as the pan was shoved at him, "Taste it?" asked the Head Chef, he had been asked to taste many things, but never food that had been reduced to charcoal. He had eaten eel, alligator, possum, snake, and even insects, but charcoal was out-of-bounds for him. "I think I'll pass," he commented as he gently took the pan from Alois' hands and placed it on the stove.

"I'll make breakfast," he stated as he walked over to the refrigerator, there had to be something left in it that he could craft into food he considered edible. In the back of his mind he was happy he had slipped into loungers in the middle of the night after Alois had gone to the bathroom. He opened the door and stared blankly at his now empty fridge, there was no way it was empty now, he had gone shopping a few days ago. "Alois, please tell me you didn't use all the food in here," he commented as he leaned his head on the door. There was silence, and he looked over his shoulder to see Alois smiling nervously and swinging his hips from side to side. "I didn't use all the food," he replied with a large nervous grin. Claude sighed and shook his head, "Liar, it's gone and now I have to go shopping," he grumbled as he closed the door. Once it closed he leaned his head on the smooth cold surface, and began to wonder just what he did for god to play such a cruel joke on him. He must have royally fucked up somewhere, either that or god had far too much time on his hands.

The Head Chef ran a hand through his unkempt black hair and sighed, "Okay, let's get food." Alois jumped and threw the spatula across the room, yet another thing he would have to clean later, "YAY, let's go to that huge market Claude!" Alois cried with glee, "Perhaps I can find something there I can cook!" Claude's eyes widened as he thought of the day he had first gone with Alois, he didn't want to end up with a bunch of things he didn't want, and a replay of him burning Claude's flat to the ground wasn't in the cards either. "NO!" Claude cried without thinking, it was a recurring nightmare named Alois. The bartender jumped and looked at him in confusion and fear, the chef paused after realizing what he had just done, "I mean, no, let's go out," he said with a fake smile. He wanted to spare his kitchen from Alois making breakfast, part two.

"I knew you had a romantic bone in your body somewhere!" he chirped. Claude smiled again and nodded, it wasn't about romance, it was about sparing his kitchen another disaster. "There is this wonderful place not far from the Tower of London, not the best backdrop but the food is good," he commented. Alois nodded enthusiastically as he skipped back into Claude's bedroom to get dressed in what the man hoped would be decent.

"Dear god, give me strength, if you don't I may just call Lucifer up instead and see if he can," he grumbled before following the now happy-go-lucky bartender.

~~xXx~~

The streets were crowded with people as they looked at the famous structure, all of them were gaping at it's size and whispering of the famous executions which had occurred there. Ciel continued wandering through the group in search of the woman with white hair, he looked at his wristwatch and grumbled, she was late. He honestly didn't like it when people wasted his time. People stared at him as he walked by in his blue suit with silver case in hand, "Claude look! That guy looks like Ciel!" he heard a familiar shout. Ciel froze, there was no way Alois was there, that would be far too inconvenient. "Alois, don't simply point at people and scream," Claude chided. Ciel groaned and shook his head, of course the king of all inconveniences was there while he was trying to do business. "What? He's dressed like Ciel would be, complete with the stick up his ass and prudish suit," Alois stated.

Ceil blinked twice, he looked at his reflection in a window and mumbled, "I don't look like a prude," he paused, "do I?" The blue haired owner shook his head, Angela wouldn't be happy if she saw Alois, he sighed and asked, "Why today?" In moments he vanished into the crowd and looked frantically for Angela. He didn't need Alois to see him and ask one thousand and one questions about what was in the case. His phone rang loudly and he grumbled as he attempted to ditch the pair. "Phantomhive," he barked. There was a pause before a feminine voice hissed, "I thought you would come alone, I didn't think I would have to get that specific." Ciel turned on his heel as he rounded a corner, "Do you honestly think I have a clue what Alois is doing here with my Head Chef? I have no clue what he is thinking half the time or where he is! How could I ask him to come with me?" he asked as he found a place to take a seat with an abandoned newspaper.

He could hear Alois' heels as he dashed after him, "Claude come on I want to see if it's Ciel," Alois cried as he chased after the blue haired owner. Claude looked less than thrilled, "Alois the idea was getting breakfast, not chasing a stranger," the Head Chef stated. Alois ignored him as always and continued, "But this is more fun, besides, just think of it as a date!" Claude stopped running and tilted his head in confusion, "How in god's name is visiting the Tower of London a romantic date," he shouted. Alois shrugged his slender shoulders and continued after Ciel, the blue haired owner slipped into the seat and fanned the newspaper open so it covered his face. He crossed his legs and attempted to look as though he had been there for a while. The silver case was resting at his side, his sapphire eyes never left it.

The clicking stopped and he could tell Alois was standing before him, "Where did he go?" asked Alois in confusion as he looked around. He grumbled something and walked up to Ciel, "Hey, have you seen a guy in his twenties with sapphire eyes, slate hair and a navy blue suit with a silver case?" Alois asked sweetly. Ciel sighed and began to wonder how slow the blond was, he pointed across the plaza, and he coughed and replied, "There," in a fake raspy voice. Alois nodded and cried, "Thanks mister, nice silver case!" as he dashed away. Ciel shook his head and groaned, only Alois wouldn't notice the obvious. "ALOIS TRANCY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING!" Claude shouted angrily as he dashed after the blond he looked around hastily. Clearly Alois was ahead in the game, which didn't matter he would catch up soon enough. "Sir, which way did a bubbly blond go, he was short and wearing a pair of booty shorts and high heels," Claude commented. Ciel was silent as he thought about which way to point, he could be nice and point them in the same direction but stuck out his tongue, this was far more fun. He jabbed his thumb in the opposite direction he had sent Alois. "Thanks," Claude said before running after the blond.

"You honestly don't know how to play fair do you?" asked Angela with a chuckle. Ciel folded the paper and placed it on the table. He hummed and shrugged, "Well, serves them right. Claude should really keep him on a leash or something," he commented. Angela took a seat across from him, she smelt of the same perfume with cigarettes, "The money?" she asked. Ciel guided the case toward her with his toe, "All yours," he commented. He was wearing a pair of black surgical gloves and she chuckled, "A clean drop, you really are Vincent's son," she remarked as she slipped her hands into white gloves and picked up the case. "And you are a mobster, they usually carry those around," Ciel observed. Angela's violet eyes fell on his sapphires as she smiled, "Well, we all have our niche, besides, I never said I was a good girl," she remarked.

Ciel smirked as he watched her pick it up and hand it to a young man dressed in white as well, "Check it," she muttered. The man bowed as he vanished, "Anything else, or can I leave once you determine that I am true to my word?" asked Ciel gruffly. Angela smiled again, it was the same from the one in his office, dark and filled with a hint of something dangerous. Vincent had the same one, "How is your father these days?" she probed. Ciel's eyes narrowed, he wasn't about to answer, "Busy," was all he could say. He didn't pay any attention to his father's affairs. She chuckled as she looked at her fingers, "You know, it's regrettable that I have to let Sebastian go. He was quite beautiful," she commented.

"Was?" asked Ciel after a moment, as far as he was concerned Sebastian was still both handsome and capable. Angela sighed, "You'll see soon enough that he's damaged goods," she remarked as she sat back and slipped one of her hands through her hair. "Damaged?" asked Ciel cautiously, Sebastian was arrogant and haughty in his mind, he couldn't see how Sebastian would be considered damaged, other than the fact that he wasn't really sleeping. "Nightmares, and he has some interesting ones, at least that's what my sources tell me," she commented. Ciel was still, he began to wonder what he had just gotten into. "How bad?" asked Ciel. Angela sighed and shrugged, "I'm not sure, he never talks about them, he just acknowledges he has them. I don't think he need's therapy," she commented.

Ciel was about to say something when the man returned with the case, "It's clean, immaculate actually," he commented with a note of awe. Angela hummed as she got up and looked at him, "He's yours, nice to do business with you, Phantomhive," she commented as she walked away. Ciel stared as she walked away, on the page of the newspaper before him was an announcement with the last name he ever expected to see attached to the restaurant as both chef and owner, Ash Landers. "So you've come back to London, and just when I thought I had gotten us out of the woods," Ciel commented as he looked at the black and white photo of the man. It seemed to be one thing after another he just couldn't seem to win. "It's just another challenge he commented as he swiped the paper and began to walk away. He was honestly wondering if Sebastian was worth the trouble he was causing.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian sighed as he looked over the apartment, work had gone well, yet Claude refused to look at him. Even when it came to his deserts, the Head Chef would simply pull out a golden fork, cut into it and take a bite. As he chewed he would ruminate on the taste and simply commented, "Good," before walking away. It seemed as though Claude had lost all interest in Sebastian, all that mattered was that his desserts tasted good. It hurt in an unusual way, he felt as though the one person that had seen him for him had turned a blind eye. He began to wonder if Ciel had told him about his debt. He sighed, he had a feeling that he wouldn't be forgiven for his mistakes. Ciel had been out for the evening, he was called into his father's office on the other side of London. He was walking around in his boxers and a tee-shirt, his chest still hurt, however Agni was kind enough to wrap it twice that day. Once before his shift began and again before he had left for the evening.

Yet, he still couldn't sleep, his mind was reeling. Ciel had paid his debt which meant in reality he was free of all his ties to France, but he could still remember it. Those moments in which he was trapped in that dark room, lit by the moon, covered in rose petals and tied up with rope. Gagged, bound and raped, those hands that made his skin crawl. "I need sleep," he muttered as he wandered into the kitchen of the flat. His eyes glided over the glistening stainless steel. His fingers slipped over the cool counters. He slowly opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a canister of dried yellow flowers. They were shriveled and dead, much like the sleep he had desired. He looked at the quality and sniffed them, their aroma was as powerful as ever, "Perhaps with this I can sleep tonight," he muttered as he placed it on the counter and went in search of the mortar and pestle.

Sebastian opened each cabinet in search for it and began to wonder who would buy the whole herb and not have the thing required to grind them into powder as well. In the distance he could hear the door of the flat swing closed and footsteps approaching, they seemed to echo through the stillness of the flat, despite Sebastian's rummaging through cabinets to find the one thing he needed. He heard a cough and turned around to see Ciel standing before him. "What are you doing up at this time of night?" asked the slate haired young man with irritation. Sebastian was about to say something when he spotted the desired tool behind his head in a glass case. "Ah, there it is," Sebastian said happily was he strode past Ciel to open the case and pull the silver mortar and pestle, he didn't like stainless steel but it would have to do.

"Making something for you to snack on," he replied smoothly, he figured Ciel was an insomniac, which would be the only reason to keep such an herb around. He dumped some of the canister into the mortar and picked up the club like pestle, it was cold and he could feel the slick steel between his fingers, he much preferred the granite one he had used in college. However, he had given his to a friend before leaving Paris; he saw no need to carry it anymore. The crunch of dried leaves against the smooth surface of the mortar as the pestle ground it fill the room. "I didn't ask for a snack," Ciel stated with irritation. Sebastian hummed and nodded as he continued to grin the shriveled dead flowers into a fine powder. "I am aware, however this will help you go to sleep," he replied as he continued to work the herb, grinding it into submission. Sapphire eyes gazed at the contents of the silver dish like mortar skeptically; Sebastian didn't expect Ciel to believe that what he was making would help insomnia. He simply hoped that by cooking he would be pulled out of his personal hell for just enough time to piece his life back together.

"What is that?" asked Ciel, his nose was slightly scrunched and he was already turning it down, and he hadn't even seen the other ingredients Sebastian intended to add. "Chamomile," Sebastian replied and glanced over his shoulder at the massive oven behind him, "Could you set the oven to 176 (1)?" he asked. Ciel walked behind the man and turned the knob, "Set," he replied gruffly. He honestly wasn't amused, and Sebastian could tell. He was using the same irritated tone that he had when Sebastian had first served Ciel a dish. The same cold, distant and bored voice which made him feel as though he had failed before even trying. He pulled out a copper measuring cup and reached for the larger silver canister on the counter with a clasp on it. "What kind of snack?" asked Ciel after a moment, the sound of a chair being dragged away from the kitchen table accompanied the question. He still sounded rather board.

"You'll see, if you're patient enough," Sebastian said with a smile, it was times like these that Ciel reminded the Pậtissier of a small child waiting to open his gifts. He could remember the children's even he had done, all the kids were fascinated by his work. So interested that Sebastian had to explain every step, which he didn't mind, he found it endearing. All of the other chefs were annoyed and scared the kids away. Ciel huffed, "Don't test me, Pậtissier," he commented. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder to see Ciel sitting backward in the chair, his arms rested on top of the back-rest, his chin was resting on top of his forearms as he lazily watched the chef. His hair was a mess, and he looked nothing like the prim and proper Ciel from that dreaded interview, he looked more like an exhausted twenty year old. Sebastian hummed and smiled playfully, "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied as he dumped two and three-quarters cups of flour into a large glass mixing bowl.

Once that was done he opened the baking powder as well as baking soda, "Yeah, right," commented Ciel he was quiet for a moment, it seemed as though he felt the need to fill the space. Something which Sebastian understood, it was awkward to have someone who was relatively unknown in his flat. "Sebastian, just what did your father do?" asked Ciel after a moment. White hands stilled before adding the half a teaspoon of baking powder to the bowl. His hand trembled slightly before dumping it's contents into the bowl. He sighed as he slipped his hand into his hair, "He was an investment banker," he replied slowly before turning to the massive refrigerator and pulled out a stick of unsalted butter and set it on the chopping block, so it would soften up. "And?" asked Ciel curiously, clearly he wanted more information, and part of Sebastian began to wonder if Angela had spoken about something she shouldn't have.

"He decided to swindle a number of mob bosses out of their money," replied Sebastian, "basically he decided to invest their funds in companies which didn't exist and pocket it and ran off to, Tahiti." Ciel was silent as he looked at the chef in confusion, Sebastian never gave off the air of a rich child. Then again he wasn't raised with a platinum spoon in his mouth, he was thrown into an orphanage over his father's stupidity. He slowly reached over and both the pre-measured salt and the freshly ground Chamomile. "Did he pull it off?" asked Ciel slowly.

Sebastian picked up the softened stick of butter after snapping the silver bowl into the red Kitchenaid electric mixer. "He attempted it, however someone caught on to the way he was moving money. As a result, I was dropped off at an orphanage," Sebastian replied. Ciel was silent, most people used that kind of information as artillery for picking on him. He heard one of the drawers roll open and looked up to see Ciel holding a silver knife between his fingers, "You needed this, right?" he asked hesitantly. For once his gaze wasn't filled with disdain but sadness. "Thanks," Sebastian replied as he used the knife to slowly add a cup of butter to the batter, he had it set to low. "Sugar?" Sebastian asked hesitantly as he looked around nervously. Ciel handed him the canister soundlessly. The dull rumble of the mixer echoed through the room as Sebastian added the sugar.

"What was it like?" asked Ciel after a moment; Sebastian had plucked a smaller glass cup from the cabinet as well as the carton of eggs, lemon, lemon juice and honey. "What like?" asked Sebastian curiously as he tapped the large white egg against the glass with one hand. Small fractures appeared in the shell and he gently squeezed to pull the shell apart and free the yolk and white from it's shell. It landed into the glass and not a shard of the shell followed, he hummed as he tossed it into the mixer. Ciel's mouth was ajar slightly before he smiled a little and shook his head. "The orphanage," Ciel replied after a moment.

Of course Ciel had to ask about the thing in his past he would rather erase, to forget just so he could sleep. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath as he debated about telling the truth. Ciel seemed like the type that would react poorly if an employee admitted to being abused as a child, let alone rapes by the man who was supposed to protect him. "I don't remember much," he lied, that was the best thing for now, to lie. Sebastian grabbed a small grater and held it over the silver bowl as he gently scraped the lemon across it to remove the top layer of the rind. The smell of lemons flooded the room and brought a little ease to his troubled mind. "Really?" asked Ciel curiously, his eyes were wide with curiosity, at that moment he decided he wouldn't tell Ciel unless he had to. No one could ever know what happened among the roses, and under the moonlight.

"Yes," he replied after setting down the lemon and opening the bottle of vanilla, another scent he liked. It was soft, sweet and comforting, three things which Sebastian had very little experience around, except for when he was in the arms of the Head Chef, Claude Faustus. Oddly there he felt safe, that night he didn't have a single nightmare while sleeping beside him. Out of all the people Sebastian knew, Claude was the only one which seemed to stop the nightmares. He slowly dipped the honey dipper into the bottle and began measuring six tablespoons of it. Once he had made it a smooth mixture he turned the mixer off and unlatched it from the base. Ciel's eyes followed Sebastian's movements as he pulled a baking sheet and lined it with parchment paper. With a glistening silver spoon Sebastian dipped it into the bowl and pulled a portion of the batter out of it. With the tip of his finger he coaxed it off the curved surface of the utensil and watched it stick to the parchment. The oven was finally up to temperature and he was coming to the end of his attempt to flee from his life.

Ciel was quiet as Sebastian finished putting the drop cookies on the sheet and slipped the two pans into the oven. Once this was done he picked up a small white box and chuckled, it was a farewell gift from a professor. "What is that?" asked Ciel curiously as Sebastian tipped the box in his hand and an unusual item slipped out. Resting in the palm of his hand was a timer with a black base and a small gray mouse sitting upon a clear dome. Trapped beneath the dome was a black cat which was extremely confused. He twisted the time so a small cheese shaped wedge on the base was lined up with the eighteen on the base. "Now we wait," commented Sebastian as he began to clean up his mess.

Eighteen minutes passed slowly, and the timer seemed to summon Sebastian's attention, "Done," he breathed as he opened the oven. With a black mitt he pulled the trays from the searing heat and placed them on the glass cutting board. Ciel was looking over the small golden brown biscuits, they looked simple, they looked nothing like the glorious cakes he served. With the edge of a spatula he slowly picked up a cookie and held it out to Ciel. "Here, try it for sweeter dreams," Sebastian said with a sad smile. He didn't intend for Ciel to see them, yet he was a little nervous, it was such a simple recipe.

Ciel slowly broke a piece of the soft and hot cookie in his hands. It was perfect, and Sebastian could tell that from the fact that it didn't make a hard snap or crumble. Once young man had finally slipped a piece between his lips Sebastian followed suit. He closed his eyes as he tasted the bitterness of chamomile; it danced on his tongue and was spurred onward by the acidic lemon, which seemed to nip at the back of his tongue. Finally the sweet notes of honey chimed in, coupling the bitterness of the chamomile and tartness of the lemon. "Isn't chamomile put in tea?" asked Ciel. Sebastian opened his burgundy eyes and looked at him with a small smile, "Yes, it's used to soothe and relax the mind before bed," he replied as he grabbed a few cookies.

* * *

**Notes:**

(1) 176 degrees Celsius is equivalent to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

_This recipe is from a wonderful blog called "Snixty Kitchen", feel free to PM me for the link. The Recipe belongs entirely to her. Feel free to take a look. _


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's Note: The portion in Italics is Sebastian's dream. _

_I want to thank those of you who are reviewing without signing in or don't have accounts. I know I didn't do it last chapter. I was trying to get it posted so I didn't leave you hanging for so long. You're reviews mean a lot, and I'm glad a number of you are interested by who will end up with whom. Honestly, you guys make writing this s much fun. _

* * *

**Chapter 16: Night Terrors and Bitterness**

Guilt is perhaps one of the most powerful emotions known, it consumes people after they realize what they've done is wrong. Even when the act which is eating away at the person was a mistake. Claude just couldn't look at Sebastian, it wasn't something that the chef had did, it was his own action. He was using Alois to erase his feelings for Sebastian, he felt as though he had betrayed the Pậtissier. Of course he knew he didn't, in fact he never confessed, Claude sighed as he looked at the boiling pot, he was preparing a pasta. His mobile rang, and the chef sighed, "Canterbury, take over," he barked. The violet haired chef nodded as he walked over and dumped the pasta into the pot. Claude walked out of the kitchen and into the alley behind the restaurant. "Hello," he stated solemnly, he honestly didn't look at the caller ID. "That's an unusual greeting from you Faustus, usually you bark at me to stop wasting your time," replied the smooth voice of Madame Red.

The head chef unbuttoned the top two buttons of his jacket before leaning on the wall, "A little distraction his welcome at this moment," he replied as he looked at the pavement beneath his sneakers. He honestly had no idea how to approach Sebastian anymore, he had watched the man leave with Ciel and head to the young owner's flat. He honestly doubted that Ciel was up to any good. "That's even more unusual, Claude are you feeling alright? I have time this afternoon if you aren't," commented Madame Red, there was more concern in her voice than before. The head Chef sighed and swept a hand through his hair his fingers gripped at the roots for a moment as he replied, "No, kitchen trouble, nothing health related." Madame Red simply hummed on the other end. He honestly couldn't trust the woman enough to tell her what he was thinking, she was close to Ciel as it was.

"I was calling to see if you could bring Sebastian in for a follow-up, I want to make sure he's healing up nicely," she commented, Claude could hear pages rustle in the background, he figured she was looking at her physical planner. It amused the man that she still used one, most people put it in their phones. He paused after realizing what she had just said, "A follow-up?" asked Claude curiously, he thought the lacerations looked bad but not bad enough for her to follow-up quite so soon. "Yes," she replied hesitantly, he had a feeling she wanted to do more than a follow-up. "Madame Red, this is more than a follow-up, what aren't you saying?" asked Claude sternly. It was bad enough Sebastian wasn't talking to him but now she was hiding things, "Doctor Patient," Madame Red began only for Claude to jump in. "Don't say that, I brought him in, and now you ask me to bring him back. Someone has to tell me what the fuck is going on," Claude barked angrily. He couldn't stand being left in the dark.

Clearly Madame Red was stunned, she didn't reply she was silent. "Claude, I'm not supposed to say, however," she paused and he could hear a door close, "you aren't giving me a choice." Of course he knew he was being inconsiderate, yet, he didn't give a damn. All that mattered was protecting the raven haired chef, even if he was screwing another person, he wasn't going to let anything else happen to Sebastian. "It's hospital policy to report any marks that look like abuse or assault to the police, that's what the photos were for. Sebastian's case has raised a few alarms, and there are people who wish to speak to him. I gave them the information that he put on the paperwork, but they couldn't find him at that address," Madame Red replied, she sounded tired and worn out.

"What?" asked Claude in confusion, he didn't know Sebastian's address but it was impossible for the man to be paid without a permanent one. "I had to report it to the police, I assured them you weren't a suspect. That you simply brought him in," she continued. Claude shook his head and held up his hand to stop her only to realize she wouldn't be able to see him. "Not that part, the part where Sebastian doesn't live at that address," he stated in confusion. Panic took over as he began to wonder what was going on. Madame Red sighed, she was clearly irritated by Claude, "The Landlord said he moved out, and didn't leave and address. I was going to have Sebastian change it once he came to the check up," she replied. Everything else was a blur, Ciel must have been part of this, yet how Sebastian was able to move so fast and leave no trace was beyond him. The Pậtissier didn't seem like the type that had money to spare. "I'll talk to him, when are you free?" asked Claude after a moment. Perhaps if he could get the man alone he could find out what was going on.

"Ten in the morning, Monday," she replied firmly. Claude took a look at his wristwatch and nodded, "Okay, I'll bring him. Thank you Madame Red," he replied before hanging up. Sebastian hadn't said a word about moving, in fact Sebastian had been pretty much silent. Aside from him telling the waiters when to go and shouting, "Hot Sheet," when he ran behind chefs. Claude shook his head and groaned, he was trying to get away from Sebastian and yet the universe continued to push him back toward the young Pậtissier. He was about to walk back into the building when his phone buzzed again, "What now?" he grumbled as he turned the screen of his Galaxy III S on.

_**Lucian F.:**_

_We need to talk._

Claude grumbled as he typed his reply.

_**Claude Faustus:**_

_Can't. Busy. _

Before shoving the irritating device back into his pocket he muted it. He didn't want to deal with that person, he honestly wasn't interested. "Why does my life have to fall apart all at once," he grumbled. One of the last people on earth he wanted to talk to had texted him, "Yet another nuisance," he commented as he walked back into the kitchen, fastening his buttons as he went. Silently praying that he would be able to get through the evening with little trouble.

~~xXx~~

The sound of an oboe and snare echoed in Ciel's ears as the deathly slow waltz continued with its monotonous melody. "If all the world's a stage, why did god make it so bloody boring at parties?" Ciel muttered as he watched a number of women spin by as men lead them in circles. Of course waltzes irritated Ciel, what made it worse was that he wasn't going to have the advantage of stripping Lizzy out of her dress and ravaging her in bed, she was still in Paris. He groaned as he downed another glass of champagne and watched as the other nobles kissed each others cheeks. The event was supposed to be a charity ball, raising money for orphans. Ironically the buffet was well worth a quarter of one million pounds alone.

It disgusted him how each of the men and women was dressed to the nines and wearing masks, as though they concealed their identities. Yet everyone knew who the other was by simply looking at the gems around their neck or the cut of their suit. The evening was dripping in blood as nobles jabbed at one another, aiming for as low as they possible could with snide remarks. The stench of secrets rotting under rugs from others as they flirted with another person's spouse, praying that they could elevate their status. It was even possible to see the bones of skeletons poking out from under the doors of several people's closets as they strategically glared or avoided another guest. "It's always the same," he mumbled as he walked over to the bar. The same game and after awhile it got old, his father was off to the side with Rachel, they were chatting with Drewitt. Apparently the Vice Count, Alois' uncle, desired to help build and orphanage. He was asking Vincent if he wanted to contribute.

Ciel shook his head as he leaned against the mahogany bar and called, "Another glass of _Dom Perignon Noire_." The bartender nodded as he opened the bottle and poured the golden sparkling liquid into the glass. "You look like you're about to stab someone to make the party more interesting," commented a familiar voice. Ciel looked over to see Alois standing in a familiar vampire garb, his purple suit and red tail suited him. He had a pair of fake red wings stitched into his hat and was holding his mask. Ciel slipped off his own and looked at him, "The thought has crossed my mind several times," he replied as the bartender placed his drink beside him, "Thanks," Ciel mumbled as he picked up the flute.

"Scotch, Neat," Alois said with a grin before turning his attention to the slate haired young man. "Where is Lizzy?" asked Ciel as he looked around for the curvy, green-eyed blonde fiancée. "Paris, she couldn't make it," replied Ciel as he took another sip, his voice was filled with irritation as he replied. Lizzy was the one who said he had to go to the even, after all he was fortunate to be the son of Vincent Phantomhive, the owner of Funtom Toys. It would look poorly if the owner of the acclaimed family man of CEO for a toy company was abandoned by his son. "Ouch, she left you to rot," remarked Alois, Ciel could tell it was more of a statement than anything. Ciel shrugged before sweeping one of the long plume's from his hat back. He had decided to dress as a fifteenth century British Pirate. Form what he had been told that evening, it suited him.

If it weren't for the fact that he was engaged to Elizabeth, several women would have openly invited him to bed. Yet, that didn't stop a select few who were looking for a little fun. Ciel just wasn't sure if they were both clean and discreet enough for him to enjoy. "Yup," Ciel replied as he watched the men and women exchange formalities before another waltz commenced. "She's been gone for what? 3 days?" asked Alois as he looked at Ciel. The young man sighed and gazed lazily at Alois, "2 days, 6 hours, 13 minutes and 5 seconds," he replied.

Alois whistled, "Down to the second huh? You're taking it well," commented the blond. Ciel groaned as another woman winked at him, "Like a fish out of water," he commented. He could hear the low trombone and began to feel even more miserable, the dreary waltz honestly wasn't helping his mood. "I take it jerking off isn't working," commented Alois as Ciel shifted. The slate haired owner glared at the bubbly blond, of course Alois would bring that up at a seemingly innocent event to raise money for an orphanage. Ciel hung his head and bit his lip before replying, "I can't help it, when Lizzy was here it was far more manageable."

Alois sighed before collecting his Scotch Neat off the bar and commenting, "Ciel, you screwed her ten times a day, it was a wonder you got anything else done." The slate haired owner tipped his head back as he finished the flute off and placed it on the bar. He knew that, honestly he was a walking hard on, "So sorry, Lizzy didn't complain," commented the young man as he crossed his arms and shifted a little. She was always more than happy to accommodate him, then again she was just as horny as he was half the time. "Dude, how could she? You were too busy fucking her senseless," commented Alois as he pointed at Ciel with his finger and took another swig.

Ciel allowed the remark to slide, it was true in a number of ways. "How's Sebastian?" asked Alois curiously. Ciel shrugged and replied, "Alright, he moved in with ease, however I don't he sleeps at night. I found him baking cookies at 3 in the morning." Alois looked at Ciel strangely, "Baking? Wow, that's commitment," he commented. Ciel groaned, of course Alois would think that. Then again he was a bit odd to begin with, "No, he was making Chamomile cookies," Ciel stated as he looked at the blond. Alois' blue eyes were filled with confusion, "A flower?" he asked curiously. Ciel's slate hair swayed as he nodded and he looked at the young man, "Yeah, it's used to soothe the nerves. I don't think he can sleep to be honest," replied Ciel as he looked at the empty glass beside him. Alois' glass was still half full, and he nursed it as though it were the most important thing in the world.

Alois paused and looked at him, after a moment his expression changed to one of concern, "Now that you mention it, the day you interviewed him he didn't look well," replied Alois slowly. Ciel nodded, he knew something was going on, more than anything he was concerned that Sebastian was more expensive than he was worth. That he had just spent a ridiculous amount on an investment that would never pay for itself. "Ciel, you don't look well and the only time you ever look like that is when you are worried about an investment," commented Alois as he gently touched Ciel's shoulder, his small hand was warm and oddly comforting.

"Sebastian owed money to some unsavory people, so I paid the debt. Now he is living with me," he replied simply, leaving out the amount as well as the fact that it wasn't Sebastian who owed the money in the first place. Alois stared at Ciel, his small lips parted, and his white teeth shone in the light as his Azure blue eyes stared at him in shock. "Wait, Sebastian? He doesn't seem like the type to get in bed with something like a gangster," commented Alois. Ciel nodded as he looked at the bartender and pointed to the flute, he would have to get drunk to finish this conversation. "Yeah, well I paid it so now he is free of them," replied Ciel nonchalantly. Alois was silent and Ciel could tell the blonde was adding the facts together. "Ciel, please don't tell me you plan on using the money to enslave Sebastian," begged Ciel with wide eyes.

Alois had never been the type to care about money, for him it was something to spend when he had to and buy what he wanted. Not to invest or think about as a lifeline. "Yes," replied Ciel sternly, of course he was going to tether Sebastian to the restaurant. It was foolish not to, after all he was gaining popularity, his only concern was earning the principle back. "Ciel, Sebastian is a person, not stock or an item, you can't just buy him and treat him like that. He has feelings and needs, what do you think he will do when he finds out what you intend to do?" asked Alois quickly, his eyes were filled with anger as he spoke. Owning people wasn't something Alois was found of. "He's an investment as far as I'm concerned, and I will do with him as I please," replied Ciel glacially. The bartender handed him another flute of champagne and the young man grinned as he spoke, "As soon as I paid his debt, I became his owner," Ciel bragged. He had the higher hand in this game, if he wanted he could destroy Sebastian with the flick of his fingers now. All he had to do was fire him and blackball him from every restaurant in London, which he could do. Alois gripped Ciel's shoulders and shook him harshly, "Ciel, he's a human being, not a dog! What the hell are you thinking? It's illegal to own a person," he hissed.

Ciel shoved Alois' hands away and took another sip of champagne, it danced on his tongue, and he chuckled. "I'm a Phantomhive, nothing we do is legal," he stated darkly. Azure eyes drifted in Vincent and Rachel's direction, "Yeah, but neither of them would ever pay a person's debt to own them," Alois stated. Ciel grinned darkly as he lifted his glass mockingly to toast his mother and father, "Rachel, no. Vincent, yes," he stated before taking another swig, "You really don't know my father too well."

~~xXx~~

_Pale moonlight, nothing but the moon laughing at the boy strapped to the bed. The mattress beneath him smelt of dried blood, sweat and semen. The leather cuffs used to keep his arms above his head bit into his skin. A rag had been stuffed into his mouth, and it took all he had no to cry. He could simply lay there and look at the face of the moon as it jeered at him, telling him that it was time for his punishment. A vase of the eerie blue forbidden roses sat at his bedside. He had been stripped bare and felt the fresh lashings bleed down his chest. Knowing that the demon who had given them to him would return. _

_His burgundy red eyes closed as he began to pray for relief, for Sister Amalie to find him, or one of the others to rescue him from the demon in a cassock. A child's wish to be saved from the hell he was thrown into. All the while the same tune played over and over again, the light pling of a music box echoed in his ears. It's hauntingly sweet sound made his skin crawl. He could hear the click of the gears as the melody spun free of the small pegs in the music box. He honestly wished it would stop, he couldn't take the torment. He didn't want this, he didn't ask for this. He could hear the ballerina spin on her toe as the melody continued. It wasn't until the melody slowly came to a stop that those burgundy eyes flickered open. _

_Looming over his bed was a familiar face, he had a pair of soulless gray eyes, thick mousey brown hair and his pale face looked ghastly in the moonlight. His large hands trailed down Sebastian's sides as he straddled the young man, pressing his back into the mattress. "You've been tempting me, Sebastian," cooed the man, his Roman collar glowed blue in the light and Sebastian squeezed his eyes closed. The rag hurt his throat, all he wanted to do was scream and bite, yet he couldn't. Francis was certain of that. _

_He squirmed as he felt those disgusting hands trail down his skin, they made it crawl, and Sebastian suppressed the urge to vomit, knowing he would simply gag on it and hurt himself more. "If you would smile like the other boys, and behave, then I wouldn't have to do this," replied Francis as he unzipped his pants and pulled his dripping length out of his pants. Sebastian thrashed in a feeble attempt to escape, "Shh... it's just those eyes," whispered Francis as he stroked Sebastian's cheek. "They're always tempting me, such a beautiful color," he continued. His fingers slipped into Sebastian's mouth, pulling the wadded up handkerchief forcefully, "So fierce, and yet filled with fear," the priest drawled as he ran his thumb over Sebastian's lower lip. He slipped it between the young man's lips only for Sebastian to sink his teeth into it, as a warning. _

_His teeth pierced the nauseating flesh and he could taste the iron of the man's blood on his tongue. Yet something happened, Francis didn't flinch, he smiled as he pulled his thumb out of Sebastian's mouth and licked the tip. "Even now you struggle, that fire is so beautiful," he commented as his tongue trailed up his bleeding thumb. "It only makes me want to snuff it out," he replied with a dark grin, the wrinkles on his face became more pronounced as he lifted his hand. Before Sebastian could understand what was happening he felt it make contact with his face, snapping his head to the side. An ever present sting was left in it's wake as Francis' thick fingers grabbed Sebastian's chin and then pinched his nose, "Open your mouth," he barked. _

_Sebastian closed his eyes and held his breath, praying that Francis would take mercy on him, "If you don't open it, I won't lube you before entering," he said with a grin. Sebastian's eyes opened in alarm, "No," said Sebastian weakly. The priest forced Sebastian's mouth open and shoved his member in, the young boy closed his eyes and fought his gag reflex, "Good boy, suck me nice and hard," he demanded. He couldn't breath, Francis' thick member was suffocating him. _

A feral scream was ripped from Sebastian's throat as he jerked up and looked around the room. His heart was pounding, and he was covered in sweat. Burgundy eyes shifted around the room nervously as his hands checked for the fetters in his dream. He ran a hand through his now sweat soaked black hair to stop it from sticking to his face. "It was all just a dream," he whispered as he kicked the comforter off of himself and left the bed. "Just a dream," he muttered again. He was standing in a pair of boxers and wandered through the flat to the kitchen, his safe haven. A place away from the dreaded dreams.

In moments he was opening cabinets and looking for the one thing that would bring it to an end, the chamomile didn't work the night before, he only trapped himself in the dreams. He shuddered as he remembered the night before, he couldn't escape. After a moment he found it, a bar of chocolate, as much as he hated to admit it, he found it to be soothing. He tore into the package and slipped a small square in his mouth. It melted on his tongue as he slowly sucked on it, savoring the earthiness of the dark chocolate and the bitterness which seemed to soothe him. It felt like velvet on his tongue as he closed his eyes and chewed.

He needed a shower, but he would do that after he had the chocolate. He was scared to death of falling asleep again and landing in the nightmare of his childhood. "I thought chocolate was for kids," commented a dark voice behind him. Sebastian jumped out of his skin to see Ciel standing there, his cheeks were flushed, and he was holding his hat in his hands. He looked as though he were a pirate which had stepped right out of Peter Pan, without the hook. The Pậtissier placed the chocolate bar on the counter and looked at Ciel nervously. He could smell the liquor on him and began to wonder if the young man was drunk. "I was," Sebastian began only for Ciel to place the hat on the counter and snatch the bar. "You know for a Pậtissier you are a fickle one, you make Lizzy look easy," he commented as he took a piece of the bar and slipped it between his lips.

The slate haired owner's head tipped to the side as his sapphire eyes traveled up and down Sebastian, they seemed to evaluate him. "You know, I paid a great deal for you. Let's see if you are really worth it," he commented as he tossed the bar back on the counter and approached Sebastian. The Pậtissier began to back away, he had the same glint in his eye as Father Francis, he honestly began to wonder if someone in heaven simply wanted him to hurt. He felt the granite counter behind him hit his back, and he leaned backward to get as far away as possible. "How would you suggest doing so?" asked Sebastian nervously, his tongue swept over his lips, his entire mouth began to feel dry. It was as though he had eaten several cotton balls. Ciel was standing before him leaning on the counter so they were face to face with one another. "Simple, pleasure me," he stated with a grin.


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note:_

_I want to take the opportunity to thank all of you who have been reviewing, I received a huge number of reviews on the last chapter. Those of you who have been reviewing anonymously, thank you. I know this Ciel isn't your typical one, I thought this would be what he could have been like if he hadn't lost his parents._

**_ That being said proceed with caution, this chapter contains a very graphic and dark lemon. Let me just remind you Ciel is intoxicated, before all of you shout at me. People do horrible things when they are drunk, so just remember that. _**

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**Chapter 17: Fractured Roses**

Ciel's command rang in Sebastian's ears, he closed his eyes and began to wish that someone would save him. The slate haired young man chuckled, "Closing your eyes won't make me disappear," said Ciel with a grin. His large hands that were stilling ink black leather gloves swept down Sebastian's neck and pectorals, "These scars, are new, they are still quite swollen," he commented as he slowly swept his hand over one of Sebastian's nipples. The Pậtissier whimpered and jerked away, his lips moved to protest, yet nothing came out of them. His heart was pounding, Ciel really wasn't different from Francis, "Despite that, it's still beautiful," Ciel breathed. Sebastian felt as though all of his power had been taken from him.

Ciel was his new owner, which meant if he desired sex, Sebastian had to please him. He shied away from Ciel's hands, he didn't want this, his head was a mess. Nothing was making sense, he had been trained to accept the treatment his masters bestowed upon him. Yet with Ciel it felt wrong, the young man was his boss, he wasn't attracted to him. His lips moved but the words refused to come out, he was trapped inside his own body. Praying for the young man to somehow sober quickly sober up. Ciel's hands traveled down Sebastian's sides, beckoning for the man to enjoy himself. The soft and supple black leather that, covered them sent shivers through him. "Come on Sebastian, touch me," he demanded. The Pậtissier shook his head violently. "P-Please, n-not... this. I will do... an-anything but this," he stammered as Ciel pressed Sebastian into the counter, the lip of it was being forced into the small of his back. Soft and delicate fingers slipped down Sebastian's abdomen, tracing his scars.

"Now I understand what she meant," Ciel commented, his sapphire eyes narrowed deviously as he grinned. Sebastian shuddered as the young man slowly gripped his member, Sebastian hissed and pleaded, "Don't." Ciel licked his bottom lip and ignored him. His hands gripped the counter so that he had Sebastian pinned against it, "Don't what? You're far too gorgeous to pass up, Lizzy is hot but you," Ciel commented as he leaned in and licked the side of Sebastian's neck, "You are stunning," he whispered. Sebastian could feel his slick hot tongue against his neck and whimpered with fear. Sebastian was trapped between Ciel and the counter, he felt one of the young man's hands roam down his side and slip over his hip. "You're in a league of your own," Ciel whispered against Sebastian's neck, his voice traveled like a chill up his neck. "St-Stop," Sebastian stammered as he felt one of Ciel's hands grip his backside harshly.

"Why?" asked Ciel before he sank his teeth into Sebastian's slender and beautiful neck. "You must feel it too," he breathed as his other hand slowly ran up Sebastian's chest, his touch was light and Sebastian shivered with disgust. The scent of champagne and Ciel's cologne were combining, making Sebastian's stomach churn. He couldn't stand the musky scent mixing with the liquor from the champagne. Ciel's nimble fingers tweaked one of his nipples causing Sebastian to cry out. Tears that he had attempted to stop from falling were burning his eyes. "Please, I can't," he pleaded as Ciel's fingers began to knead his ass. He didn't want this, "Of course you can, just think of the pleasure," commented Ciel as he drove one of his legs between Sebastian's, forcing the Pậtissier to spread them. It wasn't until now Sebastian realized just how tall and strong Ciel was, he may have looked slender but clearly looks in this case were deceiving.

Sebastian finally willed his body to move and his hands shot up to push Ciel away, only for them to hit a firm chest. A chuckle left Ciel as he looked at Sebastian, "Honestly, you're too cute," he commented as he pulled his cravat off and harshly grabbed Sebastian's wrists, the Pậtissier struggled, twisting and squirming in an attempt to get away. "The more defiant you are, the more I want you. Lizzy was like this at first, it took a bit, but I got her in my bed," he said with an air of pride as he used the piece of cloth to bind Sebastian's wrists together. The fabric wasn't as harsh as the leather had been, however it wasn't comforting either. "You, why did your force her?" asked Sebastian nervously.

Ciel tipped his head to the side and chuckled, "Honestly, I'm rich, powerful and have quite the libido, why wouldn't I? Women are a game, I will admit I've never had a man though," he commented. Sebastian felt as the walls move in on him, as far as Ciel was concerned sex was a conquest like business. Sebastian gulped as he attempted to force Ciel off of him, only for Ciel to use his hands and force the Pậtissier to his knees. "You really don't get it, do you?" asked Ciel. Sebastian was looking at the floor, his mind was screaming to run, yet his body just wouldn't obey. Ciel grabbed Sebastian's hair and grinned, "You are mine, you will do as I say, when I say and how I say. I own you, there is no one who will save you," commented Ciel he stood proud, and Sebastian paled, he managed to find his voice, "No, never," he stated. Sebastian got up and pushed Ciel back with his bound hands. "I'm a Pậtissier, not a slave!" he replied.

He had finally found his voice, he drew a deep breath as he managed to stumble backward to get away, "I'm not a slave, I'm a Certified Pậtissier trained at one of the finest French Cuisine Colleges, Le Cordon Bleu," he proclaimed, hopefully his new found confidence would stay long enough for him to run. Ciel gripped Sebastian's hair and chuckled; he was at his full height and forced the Pậtissier to look at him. "You should really listen to what people are saying," Ciel hissed in return. His other hand gripped Sebastian's chin forcefully, "I'm telling you that you can't escape me, the best thing for you to do is pleasure me," he stated. Ciel undid several buttons on his vest and proceeded to unbutton his shirt. His toned body underneath was far more intimidating than the heavy set one of Father Francis from his nightmares. Ciel could hurt him far more than the priest ever could.

Ciel's free hand proceeded to unbuttoning his silver belt; the buckle fell to the side as did the dark brown leather end. He slowly slipped it off, and Sebastian stiffened, while Claude had set the belt down after a minute Ciel looked as though he would enjoy using it on Sebastian. The burgundy eyed Pậtissier was silent and stiffened as he heard Ciel snap the belt as he pulled it tightly. "You would look great in leather," commented Ciel as he looked down at Sebastian. He placed the belt on the counter and proceeded to unbuttoning his trousers. A grin of delight was on his lips, his slate hair had fallen out of place, and the tri-corner hat with the beautiful white plume sat on his head perfectly. He lifted one of his hands to his lips and tugged the black leather article off by the tip of his finger. Sebastian watched as the glove rolled off of his hand and was held in the young man's teeth, before he dropped it to the floor.

Ciel's fingers were cold in comparison to Claude's as they wrapped around his chin and he removed the second glove. His cold sapphire eyes never left Sebastian's face, the bitterness they held frightened the chef. "Lick it," he commanded with a dark smile. Sebastian stared at the man's trousers and shuddered, he closed his eyes as he attempted to calm his nerves, "No," he said firmly. Ciel glared, "What?" he asked harshly. Sebastian replied, "I wo," before he could finish Ciel slipped his thumb into Sebastian's mouth and forced it open. "You will," he hissed as he pushed Sebastian's tongue down with his thumb. Sebastian felt as though he were about to gag. His eyes closed as he felt Ciel's fingers inside his mouth, caressing his tongue and forcing it open. Francis had done something similar his first time. Shivers of fear wracked the Pậtissier's body as he felt his sense fall away from himself.

If he couldn't physically run, he would mentally. Ciel's fingers probed his mouth, forcing it open, he grinned with delight as he shoved his fingers into the Pậtissier's mouth as far as he could making him gasp. In a swift motion Ciel had managed to slip his large hard into Sebastian's mouth. The Pậtissier whimpered as he felt the hot thick length enter his mouth harshly. It tasted salty and made him remember the time Francis had forced him. "Use your tongue," Ciel demanded as he ran his fingers through Sebastian's silky black hair. Sebastian looked up at the pirate his skin was flushed, and his tongue ran over his lower lip. Even if Sebastian wasn't attracted to him, there was no way he could deny that any other person would have loved to do it with this man. His burgundy eyes fluttered closed, he didn't want to bite Ciel, if he did he might have received a beating like Francis often bestowed upon him.

Sebastian's hesitantly ran his tongue around the head and drew back, he couldn't do a good job if Ciel kept forcing it down his throat. Ciel was about to protest only for Sebastian to look up at him and run his tongue around the head of his throbbing member. Sapphire eyes glowed with desire as his fingers twisted in Sebastian's hair, "I knew you'd understand, satisfy me," he whispered darkly. His voice hummed in Sebastian's ears as he slowly ran his tongue down the man's thick shaft and his lips ghosted over the thick piece of flesh. Ciel growled as he felt Sebastian's tongue wrap around him. The Pậtissier took this as a sign to continue, his lips parted and he teased Ciel's slit with his tongue. "You're good at this," commented Ciel, he was panting and Sebastian felt the young man's member hardening in his mouth as he descended upon it. The memory of Francis beating him if he didn't do well was fresh, it hurt but he wasn't going to provoke Ciel into doing the same.

Sebastian hollowed his cheeks as he sucked as hard as he could, Ciel's hips bucked forward and the owner groaned, "Way too good," he growled. Sebastian felt the young man's dick slowly leak pre-cum as he took Ciel even deeper; his tongue swirled around the base with ease. The slate haired young man's hips bucked again and his hands gripped Sebastian's head. "God I want to fuck your mouth," Ciel whispered darkly. Burgundy eyes opened and he looked at the sight above him, sweat dripped down Ciel's chest and his coat swayed, it was as though he had viewed the dark side of the moon. Ciel was nothing like his usual self, he was seductive, hot and more aggressive. Sebastian stilled and allowed the young man to thrust in and out of his mouth, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked, he could feel the thick member slipping into his throat. "Fuck," gasped Ciel as his hips moved more forcefully.

Sebastian felt as though he was being gagged as Ciel's hard length slipped down his throat. Tears stung his eyes and he felt as though he wanted to throw up, Sebastian didn't have a gag reflex, but the shear action of doing this with his boss was more than enough to sicken him. Ciel growled as he moved and finally pulled out, "Enough, I want to be inside you," he hissed as he forced Sebastian to his feet. The Pậtissier turned to run only for his chest to meet the unforgiving and cold granite counter. Ciel's fingers found the waistband of Sebastian's boxers with ease, "Has anyone ever touched you here?" asked Ciel with a grin.

Sebastian squirmed and attempted to break away only for Ciel to press his head into the counter with his hand, "Yes," he whimpered, "Let me go." Ciel chuckled as his hands caressed Sebastian's smooth bottom, "Such a cute hole for a slut," he commented. Sebastian was about to protest until he heard the sound of a plastic lid leaving a glass bottle. The air smelled of olives and it wasn't until then that Sebastian register what was going on. Francis never used lube, it was slick and stick, "What?" he stammered as he felt the slick substance roll down his skin. A low chuckle left the owner as his hands kneaded his flesh. His fingers spread the slick substance over his body and Sebastian moaned, it felt odd, and very bot. Ciel's hands were sliding across his skin as they applied the slick substance.

Sebastian looked up to see Ciel holding a bottle of olive oil in one hand, "Did you do this for the man too?" asked Ciel darkly as he tipped the bottle and coated his fingers, a thin ribbon of green fluid fell from the tip and hit his fingers. The excess dripped from them and landed on the small of Sebastian's back, he never thought anyone would use Olive oil that was meant for cooking on him. The powerful scent of olives assaulted his nose, he was about to protest until he felt one of Ciel's slicked fingers slip inside of him. His eyes widened and his lips parted, "Stop!" he cried in a panic. Ciel's free hand rested on Sebastian's hip as he began to move the single finger about, stirring the chef, making him feel lost in a haze. He hated Ciel's touch, he wanted to get away, yet his body was ignoring his demands. "S-Stop!" he protested again only for the young man to laugh, "I won't," Ciel stated as he slipped a second finger in. Sebastian arched his back and cried out when he felt those fingers sweep over a bundle of nerves. His head went numb and his body convulsed with pleasure.

He had never felt something like that, when Francis touched him, he only felt pain. Yet, with Ciel he felt both pleasure and pain, it was an intoxicating cocktail. Sebastian whimpered once again, the sound of his voice filled the room as well as the erotic sound of Ciel's fingers sliding in and out of his entrance. His heart was pounding wildly, "See, I told you it would get better," whispered Ciel into Sebastian's ear. His breath caressed the shell and sent another shiver through him as he felt the young man sink his teeth into it. Sebastian's hips swayed as Ciel scissored his fingers, he could feel them slowly stretching him, it hurt and yet his mind was going numb. "Pl-Please," Sebastian begged as Ciel licked the side of the Pậtissier's neck, the young man hummed against his skin. Sebastian could feel those demanding lips curve into a smile, "What?" asked Ciel teasingly. Sebastian's eyes were closed tightly and he was panting as he reamed under Ciel's touch. "Please," he begged, "stop."

At that second Ciel's fingers slipped out of him, leaving his hole empty and twitching, "You honestly," grumbled Ciel as Sebastian felt something hard prod at his entrance, "don't get it," he hissed. Sebastian's lips parted, he wanted to protest, yet his voice failed him. He felt as though he were gagged with that handkerchief and being raped by the man from his nightmares. With the snap of his hips Ciel was inside of him, pushing himself as far as possible into the Pậtissier. Sebastian's body went rigid as pain shot through him, Ciel was massive and he hadn't been stretched enough. He wanted to cry and yet he couldn't, "So fucking tight," moaned Ciel as he instinctively began to pound into the man.

One by one his senses left him and he felt his mind go numb, with little warning the Pậtissier's head met the unforgiving counter. He didn't want to lapse into the darkness, he wanted the light. To feel the warmth of the sun caress his skin and those powerful arms he had slept in once before to encircle him. He could never have those golden eyes gazing solely at him, they would be filled with disgust if they knew just what had happened to the Pậtissier. Faint calls of his name rang in his ears, perhaps it was for the best he hadn't slept and slipping into emptiness was better than the dreams which haunted him.

~~xXx~~

Claude sighed as he finally left the lift and opened the door of his apartment. Alois went home with his uncle, he was plastered after the party. He placed his keys on the small wooden table by the door and proceeded to slipping off his shoes. "Another cold apartment," he commented as he turned the lights on. The warm woods seemed lifeless somehow, he wasn't sure if it was from how alone he was or if he simply lost interest in the design. Unlike most flats, Claude searched specifically for one with a number of windows, warm woods and an open plan that made everything seem brighter.

His footsteps echoed through the lifeless home, at one time there had been someone waiting for him; sitting by the window on the soft brown sofa, with short white hair, violet eyes and alabaster skin. The Head Chef could remember when his apartment smelled of coco, honey, oranges and cinnamon; the sound of a knife not too far away, and an attempt at the weekly desert sitting under a crystal dome on the kitchen counter. Those were the days when life was good, and Ash still loved him, or at least pretended to. His fingers trailed over the back of one of the chairs in the living room, "To think, I actually wanted him to stay with me," he commented sadly.

Out of all the people Claude had allowed into his home, none of them managed to effect him as much as Sebastian, not even Ash. Sebastian was different, a talented and powerful chef that was gentle yet tough at the same time. His skill was far above that of Ash, and yet he didn't have an ego and a half. For the most part Sebastian was quiet, it wasn't until Claude had seen the lashings that Sebastian had on his chest that he felt differently. Sebastian needed to be protected, loved and cherished. Those burgundy eyes held an emotion that he had misunderstood to be pride. He wasn't like that; it was his armor, a way to keep people at arm's length; to prevent them from harming him.

Claude wasn't sure what hurt more, that Sebastian didn't trust him enough to stay the morning with him or the fact that the person he wanted wasn't available. He was with the owner, the one person it was impossible to take anything from. Ciel wasn't something to mess with, he had his own way of ensuring that things were taken care of, no the legality of his actions was always something Claude didn't want to question. The Phantomhive's were known for black market dealings, what was worse was that it was expected of them. His long fingers slowly rubbed his temples as he turned and walked toward a bookcase. He hummed as he looked at the books on it, Claude was an avid reader and would venture into just about any genre.

Among the volumes of Dickens, Doil and Shakespeare was a well worn cookbook. The spine was cracked and the pages threatened to fall out of it as soon as he picked it up. He sighed as he pulled it from the shelf; it wasn't the book that was important, his eyes glided over the title. It was the book used for introductory pastry classes; a smile curved his lips as he opened the cover.

Sprawled across the now yellowing inside cover of the ragged book was the name of it's true owner, "Sebastian Michaelis," he read with a small smile. He could remember the day he found it on a bench, the young chef had left it there by accident, since there wasn't contact information in the cover he couldn't return it. Rather than handing it to the lost and found, he kept it. Claude knew it wasn't right, but he couldn't leave it in a worthless box of junk. He slowly turned the page and flickered past the introduction, the book had been annotated in red, black and blue pen. Notes on preparations, modifications, and presentation had been made in the margins. Sebastian's hand writing was neat and easy to read. None of the other Pậtissiers had ever made notes like these in their books, only Sebastian.

Golden eyes closed as he recalled the first time he had seen the chef, he had just arrived and was taking a tour of the campus. His father was still irritated with him and Claude decided that it was the perfect time to flee to Paris. As the Dean lead him through the hallways he peaked in on a chef, he wasn't before a class, in fact there was no one else around. A single light was on at his station, and he was hunched over working in something. The side of his face was slightly swollen; it looked at though he had been in quite the brawl. Yet, that wasn't what attracted the young chef, it was those nimble fingers as they took simple red sugar and crafted it into a bright red budding rose. It was stunningly beautiful and seemed to be one of eight to go on a cake.

Those stunning red eyes were locked on his fingers as he worked with the hot soft sugar, sculpting it into the blossom. His attention to detail was phenomenal as Claude looked at the other seven the chef had made, each beautiful. The light reflected off the sugar giving them a soft glossy sheen, as though they had just been covered in dew. At his side was a rather large chocolate cake, it had been frosted and was ready for the flowers. It wasn't until Claude noticed the band around the man's arm that he realized the chef at work was actually a first year. There wasn't a single first year at the CIA who could produce such beautiful flowers. He had seen a number of third year chefs fail as well. Yet, here was a first year, with handsome features slowly molding every last flower.

At one point a chef had challenged him to craft one of the roses himself. Claude had attempted it several times only to learn how delicate sugar actually is when it's that hot. Every time he attempted to sculpt a petal, it would crumble in his fingers. The sugary base it's self had a habit of staining things, and if the ratio wasn't right, the color wouldn't be as vibrant. If the sugar cooled too rapidly it would shatter like glass. Claude couldn't peel his eyes off of the young Pậtissier. Each of the red tinted flowers looked as though they had been plucked off of a dew covered bush.

"Are all the First Year students able to make roses of that quality?" asked Claude, he watched as the chef lifted it to the light and watched it glisten, slowly turning it to check for cracks. His fingers gently caressing the base as he examined his craftsmanship. "Like that? No, never. That is Sebastian, he's the most promising of the students in the entire college," replied the Dean with an air of pride. Clearly, Sebastian was a gem. "Was it difficult to get him to study here?" asked Claude curiously as the Pậtissier placed the flower on the table gently. The Dean was silent, "We have an extensive number of talented individuals though, our staff is surely one of the greatest in French Cuisine," he bragged before walking down the hallway. Even then the sheer fact that Sebastian was used as a highlight but the rest of his life was forgotten annoyed him.

Claude's fingers stopped at the page with the directions to make the rose. Sebastian had drawn each step perfectly, he used origami symbols to show the folds. Several days after seeing Sebastian working alone he caught the talented Pậtissier lecturing on how to craft and Italian Ricotta Based Cheese Cake. The entire class had doubted him, yet Claude knew it was possible. He had seen them all the time in New York, but he had never had one as wonderful as Sebastian's, even if the amaretto was too much for him. The chef looked upset that day and left the room quickly, parties meant the world to the man and Claude could tell. He tried the cake and chased down several professors to convince them to at least trying it. Once he had managed to do so, he walked outside to find the thick textbook, used and worn. It became his treasure, proof that the talented Pậtissier existed.

Claude slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, he had treated Soma to dinner to get the number out of the Indian. It wasn't cheap but he had a feeling that it was worth it. He hit the side key and quickly tried calling the number, he didn't want to text him it would be a little too odd for him. After all he was first the Head Chef and then someone who loved Sebastian. Even if he didn't see that he had a right to, he still was concerned. After all Sebastian hadn't allowed him to get close to him again after that morning.

He pressed the green phone icon beside Sebastian's name and held it up to his ear; he looked at the clock and wondered if he would be able to catch the chef this late at night. After a moment he slowly took a seat in one of the bay windows and looked at the tank with his Gold Silk Spider in it. The line rang for a while, yet no one answered. He sighed as he listened to the greeting of the Pậtissier's voice mail. Claude drew a deep breath and began, "Michaelis, its Faustus. The doctor who treated you at the hospital called me; I had given her my info. She wants to do a follow up to make sure that your injuries are healing well," he said smoothly. It was part of the truth but should be more than enough to get the raven haired man to return his call. "Please call me as soon as you get this," he added before saying his number slowly to ensure that he got it right. Once he had finished doing so he hung up and looked at the book that was now resting on the floor.

Part of him wondered what it would be like to have Sebastian standing barefoot in his kitchen, in his black apron cooking just for him. To touch those beautiful fingers that caressed the glass like roses of his memory. To taste Sebastian's sweet tongue and enjoy his warmth. "Please, call me back," he whispered as he pocketed the phone. He was about to pick the book up when it rang. His heart fluttered, hoping that somehow Sebastian had just gotten the message and was returning his call, in seconds he answered, "Faustus," he said with a note of happiness.

"That is the happiest you have ever sounded to hear from me," replied a cool and familiar voice. Claude froze and looked out the window, "Lucian," he whispered, his voice gained the sharp cold steel edge it was known for when he spoke to the man. "That's the Claude I know, and would it kill you to call me," before Lucian could continue Claude interjected, "Why the hell would I honor you with that title?" he asked. There was a pause and he could tell the other party was attempting to find a reason, "Simple, no matter what you say it's my blood in your veins. I will always be your father, no matter how much you desire to change that Claude. People lie, DNA doesn't," he retorted. Claude hissed with irritation as he opened the Golden Silk Spider's tank and pulled the arachnid out. He allowed the beautiful gold spider to walk on his hand, "It's a good thing people can't test DNA by shaking hands, otherwise I would have a hard time hiding you," he stated as the beautiful creature climbed up his arm.

He could hear a deep chuckle from the other end, "I was wondering when you would stop screwing men and switch to women. I need an heir and one that can produce children, not screw horny prostitutes," he stated acidly. Claude's lips parted, he had enough of the way he was being treated, never once did he ask his father for anything. He made the money for his flat by investing in stocks, he paid for his college degree by working three jobs. "I have never asked for a single thing from you and you know screwing the closest female prostitute could potentially provide an heir," he stated with a grin. He knew plenty of places that would love to hear that Lucian Faustus, owner of Faust Acquisitions was actually looking for a piece of ass. "You can't run from this forever Claude, besides you are the only heir the board will recognize, after all I presented you to them from day one as the future CEO of Faust," he replied.

The golden spider leapt off his hand and back into the tank, "I never asked for that," he stated bluntly. He never wanted that, he wanted to craft his own life, he didn't want to live in his father's shadow. "No you didn't, however you will pick up my legacy. This isn't something you can walk away from!" roared Lucian, "It's bad enough you're gay, marry a woman have a child and continue to have a tart on the side for all I care." Claude grit his teeth, he wasn't about to do what Ciel was doing to Lizzy, "Screw you. I refuse," the Head Chef hissed before hanging up. He didn't want to deal with his father, the man who wanted to tell Claude how to live his life, to dictate his every move and force a company down his throat. He was a Chef, not a business man. "Why does he had to show up now?" he asked angrily as he tossed the phone to the sofa.

~~xXx~~

Resting on a dark wooden dining room table was a familiar box; it was midnight blue with the single word Ciel curling across the lid. Pale white fingers lifted the lid to reveal a slice of German Fudge cake. It was dark brown and had a beautiful crystal red rose sitting on top of it. There was silence as a fork was lifted from its place on the table; it winked in the light before the side sliced into the wedge. It glided through it like a warm knife in butter, causing a deep voice to hum with satisfaction. The rich scent of chocolate hung in the air as the fork aggressively stabbed the piece that the man had taken. Violet eyes locked on it as he examined its texture, it looked perfect in every way, he continued to guide the fork to his mouth and parted his lips hesitantly. The soft hum of the familiar chorus buzzed in the background as the cake hit his tongue. Melting in his mouth, the texture was spot on, heavy but not over weight. It was rich in flavor, yet not too strong, a balance that even this man had never had. His silver hair fell in his face as he hummed along to the other voices on the record, "A beautiful sound for a beautiful dessert," commented the man as he heard the humming cease, "The Humming Chorus from Madame Butterfly," he remarked with a wicked smile.

"So this is what Ciel has brought in to replace me," he commented as he looked up at the name painted in the shop window. Amour was written in large red letters with his name below in elegant gold script, Ash Landers. He picked up a folded napkin and slowly wiped the corners of his lips. He could remember the restaurant perfectly, even he didn't have this kind of skill, however if he was going to push Ciel out, he would have to defeat them somehow. He needed a weapon to give him the advantage, the question was, what he could use to do it.

Ash's eyes narrowed as he plucked the rose from the top of his cake. Angela had told him about Sebastian's debt, yet before he could make an offer, Ciel Phantomhive had managed to acquire the funds and purchased him. The rose was perfect, not a crack and, every petal had been added with care. It was far more beautiful than the ones he had ever produced. He hissed in irritation as he tossed it to the floor, watching it shatter with a hint of satisfaction. "I suppose I will have to keep an eye out for you," he whispered, "Sebastian Michaelis."


	18. Chapter 18

_Authors Note: I'm amazed by the number of readers this piece has! You guys are wonderful with all of the reviews and PMs. Honestly you guys spoil me. As promised here is the next chapter. _

_I also want to thank dear king, my new Beta! Honestly she's very helpful and I probably wouldn't have posted something this clean. _

_I will warn you, the next chapter will take longer, I injured my finger at work so I need to take a few days off from typing. Sorry guys. Yes I still have my fingers; it's more of a glorified paper cut. It just hurts. Give me a few days and I will be as good as new. _

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**Chapter 18: Gentlemen, Germans and Tortes**

Pain, it throbbed through Sebastian's body as the Pậtissier shifted to wake up. Everything ached, yet that wasn't the biggest problem; he had been sleeping naked on the kitchen floor, Ciel hadn't even bothered to take him to bed. His hips hurt and he honestly swore that the young man's length was still wedged inside. His skin felt tight from the olive oil, it smelt and he just wanted to take a shower. Sebastian slowly sat up, his hips were aching and his head hurt. The Pậtissier groaned as he slowly picked himself up off the floor, he should have fought harder, he should have run, yet his body had frozen up. After several tries, the raven haired man finally got off of the tile. "Ow," he whimpered as he gripped the counter for support, images of the night before flashed in his mind and he felt his stomach churn. Ciel had violated him and didn't even have the decency to put him to bed after the deed. Ciel may have been drunk but even drunks tend to sober up when their partner passes out.

Sebastian's hips trembled, as he attempted to stay on his feet and not fall to the floor. "How am I going to work like this?" he whispered. It took everything he had to simply stand, let alone walk. He was about to attempt it when he felt something gush out of him. It was hot and sticky as it ran out of his entrance and down his legs, a reminder of what Ciel had done. He looked over his shoulder at his reflection in the refrigerator. It was cream white and thick, he knew immediately it was Ciel's. Dried ribbons of blood were on the insides of his thighs which explained why he was in so much pain. Ciel had torn him. The young man had done him thoroughly and didn't even clean him up, "Shower," the Pậtissier muttered as he willed himself to move. Each step was agony as he retreated to the safety of the servant's quarters.

Once inside he staggered to the bathroom, which he hadn't taken a look inside of yet, he could only hope that there was a shower so he wouldn't have to try and get out of a tub. He stumbled into the bathroom and clutched the sink before closing the door, he was honestly thankful Ciel had a shower put in. After a moment of pushing the pain to the back of his mind he turned on the hot water and listened to it fall, it tapped against the tile reminding him that no matter how he scrubbed he would never be able to get the traces of the men who slept with him out of his mind. Their hands spreading over his skin, making it crawl. Sebastian slipped into the hot water and felt it roll over his shoulders. Slowly washing the stickiness down the drain.

His head bowed as the memories of the night before came flooding back, he had to get away, even if Ciel purchased his debt, he would find another way to repay him. He just couldn't handle another round of rough sex, he couldn't stand it. His arms wrapped around himself, he was praying for a different pair of arms to embrace him rather than his own. A pair that would save him from the hell he was living, to stop all the torment and set him free. How he desired to live a life that was his, tears fell from his eyes, "It hurts," he whispered in agony. His entrance throbbed and he realized there was probably more of Ciel's seed inside of him. That foul and sticky substance was still inside of him, poisoning him with darkness. Sebastian slowly leaned against the cool white tiles and slipped his hand down his sore backside.

He had more than enough experience doing this, Francis always came inside of him and left it there. Sebastian was left to clean himself up, a hiss left his lips as he slowly slipped a finger inside of himself and pushed it as far as he could. His eyes watered and he honestly wanted to stop, but he couldn't handle the feeling of another man's seed inside of him. His finger swirled around inside of him and he whimpered, his teeth sank into his lower lip harshly, drawing blood as he continued. After a moment he finally managed to get the rest of it out and leaned his head on the tile. He closed his eyes and felt his legs give way again, he slipped to the floor of the shower and whimpered, "Someone save me." He looked up at the ceiling as the water hit his face, it was harsh and soaked his hair all the way through. He could feel his black hair stick to the sides of his face as his eyes burned with tears. He felt so alone again, "Please, save me," he whispered.

~~xXx~~

Silk sheets rustled as a rather drowsy dark haired man rose from his slumber. His broad back flexed as he threw his arms over his head and stretched them. The sun washed over his skin, warming it, yet it did nothing to chase away the uneasiness he felt. Sebastian hadn't called him and now he was really worried about what was going on. He knew that the young man was currently with the owner, from what Alois told him Ciel was smashed. Claude had seen Ciel in that state, his personality flipped and somehow his libido ruled his every action. Lizzy never got a break on those nights in which the young man was wrapped in lust. He swung his legs over the bed and ran his hands through his hair.

Claude had been to Sebastian's flat only to learn that he had moved out. No one knew where he had gone to, it frightened him. His golden eyes narrowed as they glanced at the silent mobile on the night stand. Sebastian hadn't contacted him and it was taking everything he had to not pick up the device and call him. Claude heaved a sigh as he ran his hand over his face, "What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered before reaching for his black framed glasses. He had two pairs, one for work and one for home. His hair was a mess as always and he groaned as he slipped out of bed and ran a hand through it. He wanted Sebastian in his arms, to hold him and take away his pain. They had passed one another so many times before now, he just wanted to capture the chef. Yet, even now, forces worked to pull them apart. He didn't want to lose his chance at happiness with him, but to hurt him was something he also wanted to avoid.

Claude got out of bed and snatched his mobile from the table before wandering into the kitchen for a very necessary cup of coffee. He had to chase the sleep from his brain and hoped that it would somehow ease the worry. Before Claude could even finish measuring the coffee his mobile rang violently. In seconds it was in his hand, "Faustus," he said swiftly, silently praying it was the call he had been waiting for. "Claude!" chirped the obnoxious voice of one Alois Trancy. Instantaneously Claude had hung up and tossed the phone on the island. He hummed as he returned to making coffee only to be interrupted again. Alois was probably somewhere he didn't know, after all he was plastered. He groaned as he picked it up, "What is it?" he asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Guess where I am?" Alois said as he giggled like a schoolgirl, Claude honestly hated this game. "Where?" he asked with a hint of irritation. "Oi! You can't make two calls!" shouted a gruff voice in the background. Claude's eyes snapped open and he growled, "Alois, where are you?" The blond pulled away and he could hear the clatter in the background. "It's not my fault! He hung up on me! Just check the bloody records!" he shouted angrily. Claude leaned on the island and shook his head, he was beginning to wonder what he had done in a past life to deserve this. "Oh I'm currently at Scotland Yard with this adorable guard! Apparently bringing pink flamingos and placing them strategically on another rich person's lawn is illegal. As is, running through a park flashing people, dancing in a fountain wearing a bartender's apron, and... oh yeah... I stole a really girly bike to do jumps with," explained Alois.

The Head Chef paled and stared blankly, "Something tells me that isn't all of it," he commented. He could hear a hum on the other end as Alois went through all of it in his head, "That's not even scratching the surface," he replied with a note of pride. Claude felt his stomach churn and he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Why didn't you call your uncle?" he asked after a moment. Bailing Alois out of jail this early in the morning wasn't his idea of a good start. There was silence, clearly he hadn't thought of that or he didn't remember the number. "Why would I call Uncle Aleister?" he asked innocently. It was taking everything Claude had to not jump through the phone and strangle him. "Oh I don't know... he's a VICE COUNT!" Claude shouted angrily. Part of him wondered if Alois' low IQ was because of his genes or some rare disease that he could contract at any moment. "Really? I thought he just had a nice house," replied Alois. Claude's head hit the wooden counter of the island and he moaned, "Hey I only have three minutes, so you coming or not?" asked Alois eagerly.

"Yeah, I'll pick up the king of the party animals," he commented as he pushed himself off the island and walked back to his bedroom, "How much is your bail anyway?" he asked hesitantly. He heard Alois talking to a guard, he wasn't sure if the blond was attempting to pick him up or was actually asking. "Apparently 500 pounds," replied Alois. Claude's jaw dropped and he dropped the phone. "Claude?" called a familiar voice. He was shaking with rage, "I'm going to kill you!" he shouted angrily. "Claude, I've gotta go, laters!" he cried with joy.

~~xXx~~

Ciel slowly roused, his head was throbbing, he honestly couldn't remember what happened the night before. "I really hate parties," he muttered as he slowly sat up, he looked down and realized he was sleeping nude, which was odd considering there wasn't anyone to do that with. Lizzy was in Paris and Sebastian was a man. The slate haired young man slowly got out of bed and absently began to wonder where Sebastian was, he should have been able to hear someone cooking, yet the flat was still. "Perhaps he's asleep," he commented as he glanced over at his alarm clock, it was one in the afternoon. Part of him couldn't believe he had managed to sleep so late, yet with the current throbbing in his head it was more impressive he hadn't given himself alcohol poisoning. He couldn't' remember the number of drinks he had consumed that night.

"Pants," he grumbled as he walked over to his closet and snatched a set of track he shimmed into them he attempted to remember just what happened that night. He could remember the monotonous waltz as the women and men spun in circles around the room. Alois had joined him and they were talking about Ciel's sex drive. The young man sighed as he walked through the flat, everything else after that was a blur. He finally made it into the kitchen and looked around curiously. Sebastian hadn't even stepped in it and there was the strong scent of olive oil. It smelt as though someone had spilt a bottle of it on the floor. "I'll have him clean it," he muttered as he walked around the island and through the servants quarters.

"I can't believe I have to wake him up," he commented as he walked through the hallway. He paused outside of the bleak and simple door that lead to the Pậtissier's room. "Oi, Sebastian, wake up! It's time to cook I'm starving," Ciel called through the door. It was silent on the other side. Ciel huffed as he opened the door and barged into the room, "Sebastian?" he asked curiously as he looked around. The bed didn't even look like he had slept in it the night before. There wasn't even dirty clothing from the day before anywhere, "Odd," he commented as he left the room.

It seemed as though Sebastian had vanished, "Perhaps he's out shopping," he commented as he walked back into the kitchen, he walked toward the black counter and his foot slipped on something slick. "What?" he asked in confusion as he gripped the granite counter for support so he didn't fall. His sapphire eyes fell on the floor and he noticed a bottle of olive oil on it's side and a great deal of the slick substance on the tile. "Just because he isn't at work doesn't mean that he doesn't have to clean up after himself," he spat as he slowly bent over to pick it up. For the most part the glass bottle was dry, thankfully it hadn't shattered, but he remembered it being fairly far back on the counter. How it ended up on the floor confused him, especially since the black cap wasn't anywhere in sight.

He was about to stand up again when a crimson flower caught his attention. Smeared in the dried oil on the kitchen floor were several drops of bright red liquid. He hummed as he swept his finger over it and noticed the texture was very different. It reminded him of the crimson he had found on his handkerchief, those beautiful flowers that tainted the linen. He froze and bolted up right, his eyes were locked on a larger puddle, "What?" he asked in confusion. The images of the Pậtissier crying out for mercy flickered in his head. That soft skin had been under his fingertips, those lips that were quirked up in a smirk had parted for his cock and he felt a wave of sickness hit him. Sebastian's cries echoed in his ears as he remembered entering the chef, Ciel's hand covered his mouth and he looked away from the floor, "What have I-?" he asked in a panic.

That night Alois had been joking about having sex with the Pậtissier and somehow in his drunken haze he had made it reality. Now he was in trouble, Sebastian hadn't consented, he had technically raped the man. His world was being tipped on its head as he looked at the blood, there was one person he knew he could call to ask about this, the one person who had more experience, Alois. As much as he didn't want to ask the blond he was playing against, he had to. There was blood on the floor, he had actually hurt the chef. He placed the glass bottle on the table and looked at it, "If I call him he's bound to tell others, but what if I actually hurt him," he muttered. His head was a mess and the massive hangover he was fighting wasn't helping.

Everything was a mess, he wanted to hurt Sebastian but never like that. To chain him down and keep him in his grasp, break his wings even but never like that. He desired a dignified and clever way to do it, by raping Sebastian he was no better than a back alley thug. "What the fuck do I do?" he asked as he looked at the bottle as though it were somehow going to reply to his question. He drew a deep breath before picking up the bottle and placing it in the trash, he wasn't going to call Alois, instead he was going to find Sebastian and figure out what to do when he got there. He didn't need the bartender to find out just what Ciel had done, it disgusted him already if Alois found out he would surely berate Ciel.

Alois himself was a victim of abuse and rape, he had more run ins with the two demons than anyone. Rape was the one thing the blond wouldn't stand for and to learn that his friend had done such a thing to an employee no less would disgust him. The slate haired young man snatched his phone off the charger and dialed an all too familiar number, the one of the private detective Vincent used, Diederich. He held the sleek device to his ear and waited for the man to answer. "Vincent for the thousandth time, I won't come and play billiards tonight! You pay me to work, not as a play-date!" the German replied gruffly. Ciel paused for a moment, he had forgotten that the man was a friend of his father's since school. Which meant it was normal for him to use his father's given name freely. "It's Ciel," the young man replied and he sword he could hear Diedrich drop his coffee cup.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your call, Ciel?" he asked as graciously as possible, Ciel could still hear the irritation in his voice. Diedrich was like a loyal German attack dog, his father would take off the leash and Diedrich would attack, no questions asked, all that mattered was that the law was being broken. "I need you to find someone, he owes me a great deal of money and I would like it back," he explained briefly. He could hear a pen scratching on the other end, "Fine, what does he look like?" he asked after a moment. Ciel grinned wickedly; if Diedrich knew just what Ciel was doing to the man he would never comply, but he was loyal to Vincent and he wasn't about to lose his relationship to the man. "Rather tall, black messy hair, pale white skin and red eyes. His name is Sebastian Michaelis," he replied, "I'll text you his previous address."

There was a pause, "Ciel, isn't that the name of your Pậtissier?" he asked. Ciel hummed, of course that detail didn't escape the German. "Yes," he replied smoothly as he sat on his bed and leaned back on his hand. Diedrich was quite, clearly he was thinking about this. "What do you mean he owes you money?" he asked after a moment. Now he was snooping so that he could report this event to Vincent. Loyal to ones master as always, "It's nothing important, find him. Don't tell my father, think of it as me owing you a favor," he commented. He had to save face, he didn't need his father to find out about this. "Fine, I will look for him, but this better not escalate," Diedrich replied before hanging up. Ciel tapped his mobile to his chin and sighed, "I don't plan on allowing that, but if I have to, I will take care of this," he commented.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian continued down the street, his back was still in pain as he looked around the streets. He couldn't find a reason to continue living with Ciel, he just wanted to run from it all. The haunting tune of the music box, Ciel's rough treatment, he wanted it all to disappear. He turned on the ball of his foot and continued down another street, he was walking back to his old flat. He honestly didn't understand why he was going back there, it made no sense. Angela had beaten him and it was already in the hands of another tenant. He could feel a pair of eyes following him, he was being watched and he hated the feeling.

For as long as he could remember someone was watching him, Francis would watch him through the window and smile with glee on nights of the full moon. Other chefs would watch him enviously as he prepared desserts, young women would watch him to see if they could pick him up. Even Ciel watched him like a hawk, waiting for him to fall, he was tired of being watched and prayed upon. When he moved to London he was supposed to get away from it all, break free of all the hateful glares, jealous glances and looks of general disgust when they learned who his father was.

His footsteps echoed as he walked down a familiar street and stopped before his old apartment complex. "Why did my life become like this? I didn't do anything to deserve this," he commented as he felt the pain in his hips intensify. Every movement hurt, and yet he was standing outside the building. It wasn't a home, it was just a place with concrete walls, floors and glass windows. While he had lived there he hadn't known a single person. Pastries were his life, and yet the person who hired him to make them had hurt him. He looked at his hands, "I, have no purpose but to serve another person," he muttered as he looked up, "do I?" he asked.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see a rather tall German with black hair and piercing eyes looked through him. He was in a long green trench and was holding a small camera in his hands. If it weren't for the fact that he was standing in a pair of well polished shoes and carrying a notebook, Sebastian would have thought he was a land developer. "Even now I can't escape can I?" he asked as he looked at the man, his eyes were piercing and seemed to see right though Sebastian. The Pậtissier turned on his heel and walked toward the rather broad shouldered German. The man looked utterly confused as the Pậtissier stopped before him. "Ciel sent you," Sebastian said slowly. The words themselves were laced with sadness.

"_Ja_," replied the man slowly, his voice was harsh and he could hear what remained of his German accent in his voice. "I suppose I have to return to hell," he whispered as he bowed his head. The other man seemed to sense something wasn't right, "Would you like me to drive you back?" he asked after a moment. There was a pause as Sebastian debated if he should accept the stranger's offer or run from it. Kindness was something he was honestly unfamiliar with, sure he had been taught by the rough baker but that had a price, as soon as the baker had learned who his father was, Sebastian was told to deliver some pastries to a man in Paris. Little did he know he had just been sent away yet again. "What will it cost me?" asked Sebastian hesitantly. Everything had a price.

The man was quiet as he capped his pen and slipped it into his coat, as well as the notebook. He hummed and looked at the chef, "Well, I don't need cash but dessert would be nice," he commented. Clearly this man knew who he was, "Dessert?" asked Sebastian curiously as he looked at the pair of brown eyes that were gazing down at him. "Dessert and coffee," he stated smoothly, "You honestly can't have one without the other." Sebastian noticed how serious the man was about this matter and chuckled a little, a small smile curved his lips, causing the PI to smile. "So, will you treat me?" asked the man with a hint of curiosity. Sebastian looked at him and nodded, "Good, I'm Diedrich, Vincent calls me Dee," he replied with an outstretched hand. Sebastian took the man's hand and shook it, the name Vincent was familiar however he wasn't sure from where.

"It's nice to meet you Diedrich," Sebastian replied, "What kind of desert shall I make?" Diedrich paused and thought for a moment. Mulling the idea over in his head, "Something that isn't very sweet, a little tart but I happen to like chocolate. Is that enough for you to work with?" he asked. Sebastian stared. The German was serious, he honestly wanted just dessert and coffee, out of all the things people wanted from him, something that simple was unheard of. Part of him began to wonder just what this man's relation to the Phantomhives was. "How about _un Framboise et chocolat Torte?_" asked Sebastian with a smile. The German stared at him and hummed, "I've had a bad experience with torte, how can yours not be sweet?" he asked. Sebastian grinned and chuckled, clearly Diedrich didn't know anything about his craft which made it even more amusing. "I can do anything with ingredients, an oven and a touch of magic," he replied.

Diedrich nodded and showed Sebastian to his car, "Do you like working at _Ciel_?" he asked after a moment. The young man stiffened and looked at him, "The kitchen is like a dream, and the staff is very professional," he replied, he wasn't going to allow Diedrich in. Even if he seemed nice, he was working for Ciel after all. He gazed out the window as they drove to _Ciel_. "I see, and the owner?" asked Diedrich curiously, of course he wanted to know what Sebastian thought of his employer. He hummed, in all honestly he saw Ciel as a spoiled brat trapped inside a twenty year old body, a rapist who showed no mercy, and one of the sources of his misery. "He's alright, I don't see much of him," replied Sebastian, lying wasn't something commendable but he had no idea what else to do. Ringing filled the interior of the Mercedes and Diedrich sighed, "Call from Vincent," said a robotic voice.

"Answer. Yes Vincent?" he asked impatiently. Sebastian looked at the small black box attached to the visor, the blue light on the side was lit. "Dee, did you stop by the docks and check that shipment for me?" asked a silky smooth voice. His speech was refined and there was a familiar ring of authority to it. Diedrich hummed as he flicked his directorial on and turned down a side street, "I did, and it's just as we were told, poor quality really. I have Barron Reynolds taking care of it," he replied, "I'm not alone in the car by the way." Sebastian could tell Diedrich was very close to this man and wondered just who he was, "Oh? Who's with you? Did you find a cute lass around the docks?" asked the voice lightly.

Diedrich rolled his eyes, "Vincent, not funny," he commented. There was a deep chuckle on the other end of the line, "Sorry Dee, it's far too fun to tease you. Who's with you anyway?" he asked curiously. His voice was lush and soothing to Sebastian's ears, very different from Diedrich. "Sebastian," he replied with ease. There was a hum of intrigue on the other end, "Oh? Ciel's Pậtissier?" he asked curiously. Sebastian stared at the device. He didn't think his name had been printed anywhere, in fact he was sure it hadn't. No one on the floor knew who he was, they only knew of the Head Chef, Claude. "One in the same," replied Diedrich with a hint of irritation, "I'm taking him to the restaurant."

Sebastian stared at Diedrich, he seemed oddly happy as he spoke to the man, almost like a loyal guard dog. His brown eyes seemed to sparkle as he spoke, even if his tone made him sound unamused or irritated. "Let me guess; in return he has to bake for you," Vincent replied with a chime of happiness and amusement. "No, I'm not bringing you anything!" snapped Diedrich. Sebastian smiled unconsciously, they honestly sounded like old friends, rather than business partners. They had a relationship he yearned for, someone to accept him for all his quirks and joke with. A patient and polite person, who would value his ideas rather than trample them. "Why not?" asked Vincent with a huff, "I'm sure Rachel would love some. I should tell her that you're going to her favorite place, and not bringing us something."

Diedrich sighed with defeat, "Fine then," he replied. There was a pause and Sebastian could hear muffled voices on the other end of the line. They were rushed and sounded as though something very bad had just occurred. "Never mind the food, Dee I need you back at the office," he stated with ease, if Sebastian hadn't heard the clamor on the other end of the line he would have never known that something had gone wrong. "Understood," Diedrich replied as he pulled behind the restaurant. He sighed as he looked at Sebastian, "Rain Check on the Torte and coffee?" he asked. Sebastian looked at him, the German was grinning and he suddenly realized what he said, "It rains daily, I'm sure that there will be time for you to swing by." Diedrich chuckled as Sebastian got out of the car and headed into _Ciel_. He was in for a long day.

~~xXx~~

Alois hummed as he waved to the guard who had monitored his call. "Bye!" he chirped as he bounded out of the hallway to see Claude staring at the sheet he was about to sign, "Is it really safe to let him out?" asked a guard. Claude sighed as he picked up a pen and clicked it, "I have no idea, I do know it's far more dangerous to leave him in there. He's gay," he replied as he scratched his name on the line. The blonde was wearing clothes that looked like they were several sizes too large for him. They were black and had an all too familiar checkered pattern on them, "Don't I look hot?" asked Alois as he twirled on his toe.

The Head Chef's hand met his forehead before commenting, "There is something very wrong with this picture." Alois swung his arms before clasping his hands behind his back and following the now irate towering black haired chef. "Oh come on Claudy-bears, it was fun! I should bring you with me next time!" he said joyously. Claude was far too serious and honestly seemed like he needed to soften up a touch, or at least let loose. "I'm glad you think getting arrested is fun," he hissed as he lead Alois out of the building.

"Mind telling me just what the hell you did last night?" he asked. Alois paused several steps behind and rubbed his head, "To be honest I don't remember, it just feels like someone is beating my head like a steel drum," he replied. There was a pause as golden eyes narrowed dangerously, Claude looked as though he wanted to kill Alois, "Maybe I was safer in there," he commented as he looked at the office nervously. "Alois," he growled and the bartender knew it to tell the truth or Claude would kill him. "I don't, honest! I have photos though!" he said with a grin. After a moment Alois had his mobile in his hands and was sifting through the files. "You lost your clothes, wallet and even Rolex, but kept your mobile?" asked Claude skeptically.

Alois huffed and placed his hands on his hips, "My mobile is my life! Besides I took great photos," he stated as he shoved the iPhone in Claude's face. He watched as Claude's eyes widened, "What on earth?" he asked as he took the phone and began to look through the photos. "You made a dick in someone's lawn with flamingos?" he asked astounded. Alois chuckled and looked at him, "Of course we all know Kevin can't get it up, we thought we would provide an example!" Alois stated. The Head Chef's jaw dropped as he looked through the photos clearly he had seen the photos of Kevin chasing them and then setting the hounds on them. "Are you suicidal? You went up against Hannibal!" he shouted as he pointed at the furious hound in the photo. The only reason Alois remembered him was the fact that the dog had tried several times to bite him. "No, it was fun!" he stated.

Claude continued to scroll and immediately understood why he was arrested, he was wearing nothing but an apron as he danced in the fountain. "Okay, I think I've seen enough," he commented as he handed the phone back. Alois pouted, "Wait, there's these great pictures of me in a maid's outfit!" he shouted as Claude turned to walk away, his hands were over his ears and he called, "I can't hear you!" Alois jumped up and down angrily, "And I'm the immature one!" he shouted before dashing after him. Claude merely shook his head and looked at his mobile again, he was still waiting to hear from Sebastian.

"Hey isn't that Diedrich?" asked Alois curiously as he pointed to the man in the long green coat. Claude's eyes narrowed, "Odd, why is he hanging around the Yard?" asked Alois.


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note: I want to thank you guys for bing so patient, my finger is doing much better! I still like my job for hose of you who were wondering. I hope you enjoy the coming chapter, for those who are wondering when the food will return, Chapter 20 has something special planned. So hang in there._

_I also want to thank all of the guests who had been reviewing without accounts. I'm thrilled this story has such a large following. _

_Thanks dear king for editing!_

* * *

**Chapter 19: Fractured**

Alois ran a hand lazily through his hair, his head was still pounding, it was considerably worse than before after Claude's lecture. Naturally the Head Chef felt the need to berate him for his behavior. It was mainly about how his actions could reflect poorly on the reputation of _Ciel_. He honestly didn't have the desire to tell Claude that the photos had already ended up on Facebook, thanks to Grell's assistance in selecting the photos. The blond sighed as he walked through the doors leading to the kitchen, "I suppose I will deal with it when we get there, and why the fuck did they bring my supplies back here!" he shouted frustration. Usually his boxes were brought to the bar so he could unload them with ease. Yet this time the crates were still in the back, he never liked walking through the kitchen, it belonged to Claude. He paused and blinked as he looked at the slender form cloaked in black leaning against the counter, his elbows were resting on it and he had a pen tucked between his fingers, he smiled before correcting himself, it was both Claude and Sebastian's domain.

As Alois drew closer he realized something was off, the piece of paper before the chef was blank and his expression was contorted with pain. His hair was messier than usual and bright red marks around his wrists were visible as they peeked out from under the Pậtissier's pristine cuffs. His burgundy eyes were filled with fear and apprehension, it seemed as though he were honestly waiting for punishment. "Sebastian?" he asked slowly as he drew closer. He watched Sebastian's entire body jump as though someone had just shot a round off. He looked like an injured animal, starved of affection and longing to be saved. A painfully familiar look, "Oh, it's you," he breathed with relief as he relaxed a little. Alois nodded as he approached the man slowly, he was careful to not frighten him anymore, part of him was scared to know what had happened.

Claude had been trying to contact the Pậtissier all morning, he honestly prayed that this wasn't the reason why he couldn't answer the phone. "I'm sorry I don't remember your name," he replied slowly as he shifted a little, his movements were hesitant and he watched as pain flickered across the Pậtissier's pale face. "It's alright, we weren't properly introduced. I'm Alois, Alois Trancy," he replied as he held out his hand. Sebastian looked at it hesitantly, clearly he was attempting to determine if Alois was a friend or potential aggressor. "The bartender," Sebastian said after a moment as he took Alois' hand. His skin was sticky and Alois became slightly more concerned, "You okay?" he asked slowly. His hands felt as though Sebastian had slept in oil, "Yes, just tired, I didn't get much sleep," he replied. Alois released his hand and watched as the Pậtissier stepped back in an attempt to gain a little more space between them.

"Ciel's not going to be happy, aren't you staying with him?" Alois asked curiously, Sebastian shuddered as he gripped his biceps. His eyes closed as he replied, "I am, he got home late, I had to c-cook." Alois' cerulean eyes narrowed as he looked at the chef, that wasn't a good reaction, Sebastian was trying to comfort himself. "Sebastian? Did Ciel do something to you?" asked Alois after a moment. The Pậtissier stared at the blond, his eyes were wide and he looked as though he were a child who had just been caught in a lie. Burgundy eyes looked away, he was conflicted and frightened. "I won't tell anyone," Alois said tenderly as he reached out to touch the trembling Pậtissier. "It's nothing," he replied as he pulled away, Alois was about to pursue when William appeared. "Alois, Ciel wants to speak with you," he said gruffly.

Alois looked over, William's usually pristine appearance was mangled, he looked as though someone had stroked him the wrong way. "Okay, I was grabbing a case of Bombay Sapphire though," he commented. The Sommelier looked at the blond and sighed, he honestly was never a fan of incompetence and Alois knew that better than anyone. Alois nodded before leaving the kitchen, William's emerald eyes gave him more than he needed to go hunting for Ciel. It was one thing to ruffle the feathers of William, however Alois had a feeling Ciel had done something unforgivable. There were many things Alois would and could tolerate, rape wasn't one of them. He marched down the hallway only to see Agni attempting to block him, "Ah, Alois, we need to talk," he said quickly. Alois shoved the Indian out of his way, "Not now, I need to see Ciel," he hissed.

Agni quickened his pace to match Alois, "It's urgent," he said quickly and Alois glared at him. "Nothing's more urgent than what I need to say to Phantomhive," he barked before throwing Ciel's office door open. The beautiful door swung violently, sitting across from Ciel was Bard Roy, "Not now Alois," said Ciel coolly, his eyes were glued to a document. The small blond stormed across the office, his footsteps echoed and violently slammed his hands on his desk, "What the fuck have you done to Sebastian?" Alois hissed. The slate haired young man sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers, "Bard, leave us and close the door," he said with the wave of his hand. "What makes you think I did something to him?" asked Ciel smoothly. He was hiding something and Alois wasn't going to leave until he knew what. "Simple, he went home with you and now he's like this, you must have done something," Alois stated. It was the only explanation he could think of.

A chuckle left the young man's lips, "So therefore I must be the cause of his distress," he commented. There was silence Ciel was poking fun at him, "The game was to make the other person fall, not this," Alois commented. He should have known Ciel would do this, "Never to do something like this," he said softly as he glared at Ciel. He could accept Ciel's business and how he tended to operate, he could accept the fact that he practically lived for sex, but he never anticipated that he would stoop so low. "He has night terrors and was in the hands of some unsavory people," Ciel stated, "I'm not sure what happened to him, however those wounds I imagine are part of it." Alois didn't believe him for a moment. The young owner would hide anything that he thought would tarnish himself and the face of the restaurant. "I don't believe you," he commented.

Ciel hummed as he looked at the blond seriously, "I don't expect you to," he replied, "However it's the truth. The reason I called for you is because I need you to grab Lizzy from Heathrow tonight, she's coming home and I'm not available," he stated. It was normal for him to pick Elizabeth up when Ciel was busy, she was one of the few women Alois actually got along with, she also accepted him for himself. Yet, it didn't make him feel any less guilty around her, after all the object of his desire was her fiancée. "Sure, just give me the time," he said coolly as Ciel scratched something on a sheet and held it out to him. Alois knew full well Ciel was lying, he was resisting a smug grin from forming on his lips, the look that was Ciel's tell. "Thanks," he said smoothly as he pivoted to leave, once he was outside the office he pulled out his phone. "He's lying," he muttered as he walked down the hallway.

_**Alois Trancy:**_

_Something's wrong with Sebastian, see if you can get him to talk. _

~~xXx~~

Diedrich was holding a thick folder with the Scotland Yard Emblem on the cover. Vincent's reach honestly scared him sometimes, after he had let Sebastian out Vincent immediately called. It was honestly like he had eyes on the German. Vincent's smooth voice hummed in his ears as he remembered the conversation. As always the man was asking for the moon and beyond, _"I want anything you can find on Michaelis as well as Angela Blanc. Her name has shown up several times and I need to know just who is bringing this stuff into my port,"_ Vincent had demanded. Naturally Diedrich went to the yard and expected a small file, however the name Blanc had been tied into several cases, which meant a stack and a half. Oddly there wasn't much on a Sebastian Michaelis, but a mountain on Lucifer Michaelis, Sebastian's father. He was informed that if he wanted to know about Sebastian he would have to contact the French Authorities for the records.

The towering German continued to walk toward his car and opened it smoothly, "Always asking for the moon," he grumbled as he started the car. He reached into his pocket and pulled his mobile, "Where is he?" he muttered as he scrolled through his contacts. Once he found the number to the contact in France he had been given he quickly placed the call. It rang a few times before being picked up. "_'Allo_, this is inspector Slingby, French Interpol," replied the man on the other end. Oddly his accent was a cross between British and French, it was an unusual sound and difficult for him to grasp. "Yes, this is Diedrich, I work for Vincent Phantomhive. I'm interested in records you have on a Sebastian Michaelis," he stated as he pulled out of the parking spot and into the street. There was a rustle in the background and some muffled chatter, "Oh, good! I was wondering when I would receive your call. The file is brief, I can email it to you," Slingby replied happily.

"That would be wonderful, send the file as an attachment," he said swiftly before rattling off his email address. Slingby read it back once to ensure it was correct before hanging up. He was finally going to find out just why this Pậtissier interested Ciel so much. He would have never dropped a line if Sebastian wasn't important, yet there was something else. The look on the man's face, he looked as though he were a cornered animal, frightened and alone. It was a look he would never forget, the emotional part of him told him to take Sebastian to Vincent so he could be helped, while the rational part told him to do as Ciel asked, so he wouldn't hear it later. His broad shoulders dropped as a heaved a sigh before pulling into a parking spot outside of the large glass building labeled Funtom Toys on the front. The company had existed for over one hundred years and they were known for both quality and ingenuity.

What made the Funtom name interesting was the fact that there were two sides to the company, on that was fast paced and modern and the other that was strictly traditional. They still produced the same stuffed animals, the same method, hand stitched and stuffed. He smiled as he walked toward the building. The technological end was strictly for the savvy buyer who wanted the latest and greatest. Traditional toys were Vincent and Rachel's passion, Rachel would sit by the window and sketch all the designs. In fact, Vincent didn't care for the line until he sat at her side while she battled for her life. The reason the entire line was pulled out of retirement was for her, it was true that it was expensive to produce stuffed animals of such quality, and there was a small market for them. However, the young earl was willing to do anything to make her smile. To the point where he called in a woman who used to work for Levi to sew together the prototype of the first rabbit.

He pushed open the door and entered the factory, sitting behind the desk in a glass case was the prototype. It was a light gray color, with floppy ears, large black eyes and dressed to what Diedrich considered the nines. He had been wrapped in a beautifully tailored navy and gold pinstripe vest with large brass buttons down the front. A massive navy bow was wrapped around his throat and tied expertly, the points of a pair of black triangular tails were visible through the glass pedestal he sat on, and a large black top hat with a navy blue bow rested on his head. The only other hint to it's origin was the signature black tag hanging out of it's ear. "Good morning Diedrich," chimed the secretary as he walked by. Diedrich held up a hand and continued through the factory, as he walked by there were massive glass windows displaying each pieced of the production of stuffed animals.

It was like watching a massive army produce parachutes for world war two. He was honestly amazed by how efficient Vincent had made the process, naturally the Earl was proud of the achievement, hence the windows. He continued through the building to the makeshift office he had in the building. Usually he was working in his mansion in Germany, however since Vincent's call he was forced to work in the building. He rounded the corner and pushed opened the door labeled "Forging Liaison". He sighed, Vincent always did have a sense of humor, he walked into his office and looked took a seat at his desk. Resting on the side was a sleek desktop with a black flat panel. He honestly preferred his tablet but Vincent being Vincent bought him a state of the art workstation for him to use whenever he bothered coming.

He took a seat at the desk and signed in, "I wonder how thick his file is," he commented as he waited for the screen to load. Resting on the side of his desk was his well worn leather satchel, it was a gift from Vincent, honestly he never expected something like that when he was younger. It was a Christmas gift. When he had first received it he didn't understand why the man had given it to him and thought it was the best gift for him. Oddly it came in handy more times than he realized, it was the only thing that had survived his many travels. He roamed all over the globe with that satchel, to villages off the beaten path for a sample of fabric, looking for just the right plants to create dyes for the bears. To the metropolitan to Tokyo for the latest in microchips, even New York to look at the New York extension of Funtom. The bag had seen airports, jungles of all kinds, oceans and deserts, all for Vincent. The greatest gift he had ever received a bag that could withstand adventure. Stamped on the front was his crest, Vincent had said it was the ultimate form of identification.

He reached into it and pulled out the two files, he had heard the name Michaelis whispered with a hint of disdain at social gatherings, he never knew why. Diedrich opened the thick file and looked at the picture of the man, "The only thing that proves they are father and son is the eye color," he commented as he looked at a picture of Sebastian's father. He was tall, muscular and had blond hair, his complexion was lily white and he was rather intimidating. Sebastian looked nothing like that, he was far more feminine. Diedrich looked at the report before him. "So this is why you are afraid of everyone," he whispered. Lucifer had embezzled millions out of noblemen, million heirs, mobsters, and even government officials. Later he vanished with all the funds abandoning his son at an orphanage. He was married to Sarah Elise Taylor, a young woman from New York. A bright young Vassar girl, she was strong and intelligent. A wonderful woman with a bright smile, she had beautiful black hair slightly pink skin and ocean blue eyes. She was the one who was responsible for Sebastian's looks.

While married Lucifer was a successful trader in London, until the market crashed. His wife died a year after in a car accident. The man had over extended himself and took Sebastian to an orphanage. Later he was found dead in the Seine River, several months before Sebastian entered university. Prior to his death, Lucifer was living in a high rise, surrounded by jewels, silks and women. There wasn't even a hint of Sebastian in his mind, the apartment photos were included. Diedrich sat back and sighed, Sebastian's file was digital, something told him to not open it. He didn't want to see what was responsible for causing his pain. "I need to know," he said slowly. He sat up and opened the file, the email but found something else. His eyes widened as he read the email, more than one attachment there were five, and the note which Slingby wrote sent shivers up his spine. His eyes stung and Diedrich covered his mouth, "Dee?" asked a familiar voice. The German looked up at the doorway and blinked away his tears, "Vin-cent," he said softly his voice cracked. The usually happy young earl lost his smile as he walked into the office, "Anna said you were back, did something happen?" he asked slowly was he walked over to Diedrich's desk. For once the German hound was at a loss for words, he simply turned the screen for Vincent to read what he had.

_Diedrich Ferdinand von Wolff,_

_I was going to send the one file, however the name of the orphanage rang some bells and I decided to look farther into it. Sebastian Michealis' file is brief, however, the one on where he grew up isn't. I'm afraid there was a child molester running the facility while he was a resident. After looking at a picture and the profile, Sebastian fits his preference set. We have photos which were collected from the Priest's study, he vanished before we could speak with him. He received no treatment, Father Francis Malone vanished. The report is enclosed. _

_I have never had to write an email of this nature. I am truly sorry for the young man in question._

_Eric Slingby_

_Interpol _

Vincent was silent, as he read the e-mail and looked at the now upset German. He slowly leaned over the desk and opened the attachment, the file was enormous since the priest had taken photos of all the boys he had raped. Each of them terrified, tied up, gagged, injured, and covered in semen. None of them were as startling as Sebastian's photos.

After several boys came Sebastian, he was clearly the mans' favorite. With each image he was tied to the same cast iron bed with blue rose petals covering his chest and the black sheets. His white slender body was covered in more purple and black bruises with every photo. Each image was more vindictive than the next. He paused when he saw the young boy stretched by a long rope from the ceiling, his back was bare and covered in bleeding gashes, bright red streams of blood flowed down his back, evidence of the pain he had endured. He honestly looked as though he were nothing but livestock to the priest. A small pool of blood had formed around his feet and his head was bowed, the only reason Vincent knew it was Sebastian was a profile view, the boy's eyes were puffy and swollen, his lip had been split and his face was damp with tears. It was heart wrenching to look at, "W-what-" stammered Vincent as he browsed the images.

Photo after photo Sebastian was tied up as though he were a cow being bled out, covered in lacerations, his red eyes narrowed and showed that spark of defiance. Vincent opened another image and watched as Sebastian was forced into different positions and slowly the fire left his eyes and he looked more and more like a doll. Lifeless, emotionless, and empty, it was frightening to see a child that looked just like a porcelain doll. He closed the images and opened the article, "A total of thirteen boys were abused, six of them killed, and one disappeared," Vincent read aloud. His voice echoed in the office, it was as though it were possible to hear their cries.

"A mass grave was found, all six boys were found in the forest, one is still unaccounted for, Sebastian Michaelis," he read, "Francis vanished a day after the accusations were made and a farmer found the bodies. His dog had run in carrying a human arm." He stopped reading at that point when he noticed tears falling from Diedrich's eyes. It wasn't the violence that upset him, Vincent knew that. Diedrich had been responsible for something far worse, it was the fact that they were young boys. Innocent children who were punished unjustly, Sebastian was clearly his favorite. Words failed the pair as they stared in shock at the photos, the images of the young boys violated before a camera were ingrained in their minds. To see someone overcome such darkness, there wasn't a hint of it when Vincent had met him. He closed the file and looked at Diedrich, "This, doesn't leave this room," he whispered firmly. Diedrich nodded as he swept his tears away with a handkerchief. Vincent drew a shaky breath and looked at the German, "You mentioned Ciel called you, don't tell my son about this, if he is to learn of it. It's going to be from Sebastian. I want you to keep an eye on him," Vincent stated as he looked at the Blanc file on his desk. "I don't want anything to happen to him, Tanaka had given Sebastian the location of _Ciel_ and information. Even if he won't say why, I trust his judgment," he said slowly.

This was the first time Diedrich had ever seen Vincent so adamant about keeping a secret. "This will come out eventually," the German stated once he had collected his emotions. He watched the limber slate haired man sit on the edge of his desk, his hand rested on top of the Blanc file and he crossed his legs. Vincent wasn't a bulky man, he never had been, however he wasn't a wimp either. He was by far the best marksmen Diedrich had ever met and could win a boxing match if he had to. He closed his brown eyes and hummed, "He has been through enough, what he needs is therapy and a gentle hand. No matter what, no one must know of what happened to him," Vincent replied. Diedrich nodded and watched as the Earl slipped off his desk, "I'm going to see my wife," he said slowly as he walked across the room, "I need a break before Blanc, we will get into her files tomorrow," he stated before leaving the room.

~~xXx~~

The kitchen was quiet as Claude walked in, he had been trying to call Sebastian the entire morning, and got nothing. He was honestly starting to wonder if something horrible had happened to him. He had to hear his voice, just to know that he was safe, in honesty it was more than that he wanted. He wanted to wrap his arms around the chef and press his lips to those coy ones, to hold him tightly and never let him go. Alois had only satisfied his sexual desire, not the rest, not the desire to love Sebastian. Claude sighed as he walked through the kitchen, he had yet to tell Sebastian that he had an appointment with Durless to remove the stitches. "Please be safe," he whispered as he rounded the corner. Standing in his black coat was an exhausted looking Pậtissier. Even though the man looked exhausted, he was still breathing which was good. "Michaelis, may I have a word?" asked Claude after a moment. Sebastian jumped slightly at the calling of his name, it was odd, usually he would just look up. Something was off, "I didn't mean to startle you," Claude said gently.

He stood before the chef, only now did he smell the tinge of olive oil, he could see the red marks around his wrists and he could see the pain in his eyes. "Sebastian?" he asked softly as he reached out to check the man's temperature. The Pậtissier pulled back slightly and asked, "Can I help you, Faustus?" There it was, the venom which hurt his heart, that bitter poison, a reminder that they weren't lovers. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his gaze softened a little as he looked over the chef, his wrists were bruising, it looked as though someone had tied them together. Burgundy eyes looked up, with an emotion he had never seen in them before, they were helpless and hurting. "Yes," he replied hesitantly, it was a lie and Claude could tell. The young man was trying hard to stay on his feet.

"Madame Red called last night, she would like to remove the stitches today," he stated as he watched Sebastian's expression carefully. There was a hint of fear as he gently touched his chest, "I see," he managed after a moment, "What time?" he asked. Claude pushed his glasses up his nose and replied, "1, however since I couldn't get a hold of you I had her move it to 3 this afternoon." The Pậtissier looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall and then to Claude, "It's 2:30 now, so if we leave now we can get this done and over with?" he asked. The golden eyed chef nodded and smiled encouragingly. Sebastian sighed and set his edge down, "Fine," he replied as he rinsed the blade and slipped it back in the bag. "You can leave those in my office," he stated. The raven haired chef nodded as he placed it in Claude's office and followed the man to his Jaguar. "What were you going to make anyway?" asked Claude curiously. The Pậtissier hummed and replied, "Sugar roses for a cake." The Head Chef felt a spark of hope in his chest, those roses which drew him to the Pậtissier. The forbidden flowers he had admired and dreamed of licking each of the man's fingers in his dreams, worshiping them and holding them in his own. "Sounds beautiful," he replied with a soft smile.

Claude and Sebastian were leaving when Claude felt his phone vibrate. His eyes narrowed as he pulled it out and looked at the message. "I know Alois, but he would never talk to me," he whispered as he typed a fast reply and shoved the irritating devise in his pocket. He didn't want to be reminded that he was in love with an individual who was so guarded that he would never allow himself to be stripped of it. Of course he knew that, yet it didn't stop him from falling. He was falling fast, he had been falling so long, ever since he had caught a glimpse of him making the roses, he was in love with Sebastian.

The drive was quiet to Madame Red's practice, as always she was dressed in red with a white lab coat on standing before them in heels. "Hello again Sebastian," she said happily, "You don't know me but I remember when he brought you here." Sebastian blinked and looked at her, his eyes were locked on her coat and Claude could tell he was trying to fill in the blanks from when he had been picked up off the floor and awoke in his bed. "I'm afraid I don't know you," replied the Pậtissier sheepishly. Madame Red chuckled and held out her hand, "I'm sorry dear, I'm Angie," she said as gently took his. "Lets remove those sutures," she said sweetly as she gestured to the side room with a cot. Claude was about to follow when she shot him a warning glare, "Do you mind if Faustus is with you?" she asked. Sebastian looked a little nervous as he glanced at the head chef, he then shook his head. "No, I'm fine," he said swiftly. Claude drew back and took a seat in the chair. Once again he was asked to wait, which he didn't mind, he would wait a lifetime to see a genuine smile on those lips.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian eyed the cot, his hips were killing him and it was only now he was totally aware of the fact that he was standing in front of a doctor. He could feel the residue of the olive oil on his skin, it was sticky, uncomfortable and irritated him. If he collapsed now, she would know and ask questions, Sebastian didn't want to be punished. Punishment implied pain and he didn't want to see what would happen to him with Ciel. "Sebastian?" the woman in red asked. The Pậtissier smiled as he managed to lift himself onto the cot, he didn't collapse, even if he was in excruciating pain, the medication was wearing off and his body was screaming for relief. "Shirt off please," she said encouragingly as she picked up a silver tray with scissors and tweezers. He slowly laid down and she paused, "You were in the kitchen right? I thought you were only a _Pậtissier_, you smell of olives," she commented as she slowly touched his skin with one of her gloved hands. Her eyes widened and she looked at him, her eyes glided across the fresh bruises on his body and his wrists.

Sebastian felt panic rise in his body, "Sebastian, what you tell me won't leave this room," she began. He knew where this was going, he didn't want to be put on the spot, he didn't want people to know how bad he was, that he was so dirty that no amount of soap could was away his sins. "Did someone rape you?" she asked sincerely. In reality she couldn't tell anyone, he knew that, he chewed on his lip as he mulled it over in his head. She placed a hand on one of his encouragingly, "Yes," he whispered. He couldn't deny the evidence, "Please don't tell anyone," he begged. Durless was silent as she looked at him, "Did he use olive oil as lubricant?" she asked after a moment. The chef nodded, he watched as the sweet angel slowly turned, her expression was one of anger and disgust. "Wait here, I need to grab a few things, removal comes after this," she said swiftly. She got up from the stool only for Sebastian to grab her wrist. "No, if he sees you leave he will know," he whispered.

Madame Red glared at the door, "Did he do this to you?" she hissed, she looked as though she were about to rip Claude's head off. "No! I was drugged and woke up like this! He wasn't even in the area," he said in a panic. He couldn't tell her that Ciel had done it, and he was under the influence of liquor, somehow in Sebastian's head his lie was legitimate. She sighed and looked at him, "Sebastian, you will get an infection I need to do this," she stated as she gently removed his hand. He sighed and closed his eyes, before nodding, he could tell she was being serious. "Okay," he replied. He watched her vanish from view and began to wonder just what was going to happen to him. He needed help but not from Claude, never from him.

He wrapped his arms around himself, Claude was like the sun, warm, comforting and out of his reach. No matter what he did he would be dragged into the darkness. He was drowning and the only one who seemed to find him was the last person he ever wanted to. The door opened and he stared at her, "Okay, I need you to apply this to tears," she stated as she held out a sterile silver tin. Sebastian nodded and looked at her. She gave him a small smile before settling on the stool to remove the stitches. She was silent the rest of the time, he knew it was because it was awkward to help a rape victim, it had always been like this. He would never be able to escape from this, it would follow him for the rest of his life.

"Finished," she said with a note of triumph, Sebastian sat up and looked in the mirror. Three long scars were down his chest, he slowly ran his fingers over them. His back was covered in similar scars which weren't missed by the keen eyes of the doctor. "I'll let you put that on and get dressed," she said smoothly before leaving the room.

~~xXx~~

Claude was sitting in a chair and she looked at him, "We need to talk privately," she whispered as she lead him into the hallway. He knew this urgency, it was the same as the first night she had treated Sebastian. "I'm going to tell you something, even though I shouldn't, but you seem to be the only person looking out for him," she said softly as she walked. Claude didn't like the sound of this, that phrase always meant trouble. "Sebastian has been raped recently, and from the looks of it he was abused in the past," she said slowly. Her words were like boulders in a serene pond. Claude's jaw slacked as he stared at her, no words left his lips as he attempted to understand what she just told him. "What?" he asked with anger ebbing into his voice.


	20. Chapter 20

_Author's Note: I want to thank all of you who had been reading and commenting 110 reviews! Thank You! I love you guys! There is a section in italics, it'a Ronald's memory. I hope you enjoy. _

_I will warn you that I do not have the eclair recipe. It's my own and I may not share... depends on how nice you ask. _

* * *

**Chapter 20: Dessert 7: Lightning Never Strikes the Same Place Twice: Part I**

Claude's world seemed to spin, he knew Sebastian was in pain, he honestly had no idea about the scars on his back. He slipped his hands into his black hair and gripped at it, there was no hope now, Sebastian was afraid to fall, "Who?" he began and stopped as he closed his eyes. The woman was quiet as she looked at him, "I'm not sure, he had cleaned himself thoroughly," she replied. There was only one other possible person, Ciel. He grit his teeth as he began to realize what happened. Ciel was Durless' nephew, he could never tell her what he was really like. The dark and dominating young man who was now sinking his teeth into Sebastian, all he wondered was why and how Ciel was keeping his grip so tight on the young man. "I want to see him now," said Claude slowly. He felt the urge to just wrap the young man in his arms and hold him like a child. Allowing him to finally break down, to shed years worth of tears in a single night.

"Faustus, I'm not supposed to tell you, the only reason I am is because you seem to be the only one looking out for him," she stated hastily, her small hand wrapped around his bicep to keep him from darting to the young man. His golden eyes narrowed as he searched her face for a hint that she wasn't completely out of it. "Then what do I do?" asked Claude with irritation, "What am I supposed to do? Watch him break before my eyes?" Durless was silent as she slowly dropped her clipboard. "I can't watch that," he stated angrily. The doctor's expression changed as the conversation progressed, it went from one of sincerity to sadness. Her grip loosened as she watched him, "I'm in love with someone who can't love me back," he whispered. He held his hand over his eyes and drew a shaky breath. "You love him?" she asked slowly. Claude lowered his hand, he nodded slowly, "I want to hold him and protect him and yet, something goes wrong," he stated. Something always tore them apart. It was as though destiny was always going to have the upper hand and the cards were never in their favor.

"Claude, have you told him?" she asked after a moment. Claude stared at her, he had to lie to make Sebastian comfortable over his own selfishness, he couldn't risk losing a chance to simply spend time with him. He had taken a great enough risk by telling the man he was gay, now to learn that he was raped by someone who could be classified as the same based on their sexual preference made his chances even slimmer. "I can't," he said slowly, he promised to never pray on him just so he could stay near him. "Why?" she asked encouragingly. Claude pulled back and asked, "If you were in his position how would you take a confession from someone the same gender as the rapist?" his words were as sharp as the very knives he used. Slicing away all of his hopes of ever holding him. "I can't ever tell him, he will run and then I won't have a chance to see him. I would rather hide my feelings and still enjoy his company than have him leave me," he stated. To live a life of pain just to see the other be safe and smile, "Claude," she began only for the chef to draw a deep breath and head back toward the room.

"I don't have a chance in hell," he stated, "I never did." Sebastian was standing outside the door of the examination room in his clothing. "How do you feel?" asked Claude smoothly, there was a hint of concern in it as he looked at Sebastian. The Pậtissier was too thin, abused and needed to sleep in peace. All things which he couldn't provide without confessing, he couldn't be those healing hands, only a protector from afar. "It feels better," Sebastian replied, he was expressionless and Claude knew it was because of what Durless had told him. In reality he knew who had done it and wanted to rip Ciel limb from limb, however he lacked the proof. Ciel was still his boss and such a crime required evidence. "Good," he said as he smiled and looked at Durless. She cleared her throat and had managed to recompose herself.

"Well that's good, I would take it easy though, and you need a full night's sleep," she stated sternly. Sebastian nodded meekly, his black bangs swayed as his garnet eyes fell to the floor. "Chin up," Claude stated, "It's a new day." He knew it wouldn't mean anything to Sebastian but it was as much as he could say without sounding as though he knew what had happened. The Pậtissier sighed and looked at the Head Chef, "I suppose, we need to get back to work," he grumbled before walking down the hallway. Work, was the last place Claude wanted Sebastian to go, yet he had no right to deny him.

~~xXx~~

Alois looked around the terminal in search of a familiar blond, there were a number of people sifting through the terminal at Heathrow, he felt as though he would be trampled by a herd of ignorant gazelle at any moment. There was a dull rumble of shoes hitting the white linoleum floors as people walked by, pushing and shoving like salmon swimming up stream. It all irritated him. He sighed, "Why the hell did she have to go to Paris during the busiest time of year?" he asked. He looked around only to see Lizzy walk through. She was wearing a fitted vest which showed her belly button, white dress pants that hugged every curve. Her outfit was paired with bright red lipstick and stilettos.

His jaw dropped, her hair was short with a silk scarf around her neck. She slipped off her sunglasses and hat, "ALOIS!" she cried as she walked over and wrapped her arms around him. "Damn!" he commented. He hesitantly placed his hands on her back only to feel her soft skin under his fingers, why Ciel didn't give her more respect irritated him. She giggled and pulled back, she smelt of a light perfume, "You look hot," he commented and she hummed, "I went shopping," she replied lightly. Alois looked her over and nodded, he could tell and didn't want to know how much she had spent. He snapped his fingers and pointed at the case, immediately Ciel's chauffeur picked it up. "Wow he lent you a driver," she commented.

Alois sighed and looked at her, "You know him, he couldn't make it but I'm the welcoming committee," he remarked with a shrug. Elizabeth looked a little disappointed, he couldn't blame her - after all she was supposed to marry Ciel. "What has he been up to?" she asked curiously as Alois opened the door for her. The bartender looked at her and sighed, "Other than wanting to commit murder at the gala you left him at, working," he replied. Elizabeth leaned on the door and fiddled with her purse, that wasn't what she wanted to hear. "I see," she replied.

"Hey, cheer up, I'm sure Ciel has something special planned for you," he said with a hint of hope. He may have wanted Ciel for himself but she didn't deserve to be hurt. He wouldn't dare tell her that he believed her fiancé hurt the Pậtissier. He couldn't tell her that Ciel was up to something and that they were playing a game. It was different when he saw her in the hallway, but now sitting beside her, seeing her dressed to the nines, hoping to please Ciel, hurt. He was betraying her, he may not have liked her, or women in general but no one deserved a relationship like hers. "Alois?" she asked sweetly as she touched his arm lightly. The bartender jumped and replied sheepishly, "I haven't slept in a few days." Elizabeth giggled, it was a sweet sound, innocent and pure, nothing like Ciel. "Take a nap, I won't tell," she replied.

Alois leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes, "Alois, do you think Ciel loves me?" she asked after a moment. There was silence in the car, could he honestly tell her the truth that he only cared about the sex, would he lie, his head was in turmoil as he attempted to decide what to say. "Yes," he breathed. He couldn't make her cry on her first day back from Paris, he didn't have the gall to break her heart. "He loves you very much," he added only to watch her smile. He closed his eyes and pretended to drift off, silently begging for her forgiveness and praying she would never learn his feelings for Ciel or what Ciel was really thinking.

~~xXx~~

Ronald stared at the note he had received, "Why do I have to play carrier pigeon?" he asked with irritation as he walked through the doors to see Sebastian. His eyes settled on the Pậtissier, he was silent as he watched his fingers wrap around a whisk and slowly lift the silver instrument in the air. A steady slender strand of chocolate fell from the tip, the chocolate looked as smooth as satin and dark as night. Sebastian's red eyes were locked on it and he trembled, Sebastian's gaze was critical on how the chocolate fell. They seemed to analyze every detail as he focused solely on the chocolate itself.

Ronald felt as though he were somehow being drawn to the Pậtissier as he picked up a translucent pastry bag and turned it upside down. His nimble fingers slipped around a wide cone shaped steel tip, with a sharp edge. Sitting before the chef was a tray of golden elongated pastries, beautiful, soft and he could smell the faint hint of lemon and vanilla wafting off of them, it made the Head Waiter's stomach growl. He honestly began to wonder what the man was doing as he twisted the tip onto the bag, he hummed as he stopped before Sebastian's station, the Pậtissier hadn't even noticed him. All of his energy was aimed at the treat he was crafting.

The blond haired green eyed waiter had heard of the dedication and skill of the Pậtissier but never really bother to watch. He had heard a rumor that it was one of the most magical things to watch. Now he could understand why children gathered to watch Pậtissier through glass shop windows in Paris, it was a mysterious and spectacular art. His eyes followed Sebastian's fingers as he placed the prepared pastry bag on the table and reached for a silver whisk. The Pậtissier slipped it into a silver bowl a wave of vanilla greeted Ronald as Sebastian began to move the sweet white filling, scraping against the sides of the bowl rapidly. The thick white substance slowly changed as he began to fold it over it's self. Like the chocolate Sebastian lifted the whisk and looked at the thick white stream falling from the tip, it seemed lighter than before, a smile of satisfaction curved the man's lips as he placed the whisk in the bowl and grabbed a spoon.

Ronald was so enthralled that he actually shoved the sheet of paper back in his pocket, Sebastian slowly filled the bag and twisted the end, it was thick and looked a little familiar. His lips parted as he watched the chef gently lifted a warm golden yellow pastry from the baking sheet which had been covered with parchment. He turned it so the end was facing him and punctured the end with the bag. Sebastian's knuckles turned white as he squeezed the bag, after a moment he pulled it out and reached for a second bag he had filled, Ronald was confused, it was also filled with white filling, or at least that was what it looked like. Sebastian slowly added a small star like tuft on the end which he had punctured to inject the cream.

His burgundy eyes drifted over to the thin dark chocolate glaze, he hummed as he reached for a third pastry bag with a flat tip on it. The Pậtissier reached for a clean spoon and filled the third bag with the chocolate, only now did he realize that there was a hint of coffee mingling with it. Ronald closed his eyes and hummed with delight, chocolate, vanilla, lemon and a touch of coffee, all sounded wonderful. His eyes opened after a moment as Sebastian expertly added a thick ribbon of the delectable chocolate down the top. It was beautiful smooth and reminded him of silk. Sebastian smiled once it was finished and placed it on a small square of parchment before pushing it toward Ronald. "Since you've been so patient," he commented before looking up at him smiling softly.

Ronald stared at him, he honestly believed Sebastian hadn't realized he was there and blushed. He probably seemed like a small child spying on the Pậtissier. The éclair was still warm and he loved the smell, he hesitantly picked it up and with the star covering the hole from the injector first he took a bite. The cream was light yet not too light, a happy medium between a custard and a mousse. It melted on his tongue, he could taste the sweetness of the sugar, the tang of the small amount of lemon used and the mellow vanilla bean which oddly seemed to sing. It was accompanied by the dark chocolate which had been sweetened just a little, it was just as smooth as it had looked while falling off of the whisk, yet not thin. He loved the notes of coffee which followed it, filling in the lows, it was as though he had just taken a sip of coffee and popped this delectable treat in his mouth. He purred as he tasted the fluffy pastry, a hint of vanilla and lemon had been added to that as well.

Without a second thought the waiter took another bite and enjoyed himself, he knew William would go ballistic if he saw the waiter now, but he just couldn't help it. It was sweet, addictive and honestly made his day a little better. He hummed as he thought about the time he had snuck a box of éclairs in the picnic basket when he had gone on a date with William. In all honesty the date was a disaster, Ronald had managed to get them lost on the drive to Salisbury, gotten a flat tire, forgotten his credit cards so he couldn't buy petrol at the petrol station, forgotten to put the spare tire back in the trunk of his car, and had to fend off a rather persistent red headed Irish woman. There was even a torrential downpour, he could remember sitting in his beaten up red Volkswagen Rabbit and watching the rain hit the windshield violently, a small river was flowing across the road, his head hit the steering wheel and he groaned. It just wasn't his day. Through their adventure William hadn't criticized him, in fact he hadn't said anything. Despite the mess he was now part of, the brunet simply did what he could to help. It was unusual, Ronald had been expecting the man to chide him for his stupidity.

"_Well, it could be worse," the Sommelier had said after a moment. Ronald shot up and shouted, "How the bloody hell could it be worse than this!" he pointed violently out the window. William sighed and looked at Ronald he had been wearing a navy blue jacket with a soft ivory sweater and a pair of jeans, "Simple, you could have locked your keys in the car, and we would have been outside," he replied. _

_Ronald blinked and looked at him, he was right about that, he boisterous laughter filled the car as he leaned back in the seat. William chuckled as he looked over at the man, "Thats the only thing?" he asked. WiIliam shrugged and pulled out his mobile only to discover there was no reception, "Well, looks like we will be here for a while," he commented. The blond sighed and ran his hand nervously through his hair, he really wanted this date to be wonderful and yet, it was a train wreck combined with a plane crash. William reached into the back and pulled out the white box, "What are these?" he asked curiously as he placed the white box, Ronald glanced at the box and replied, "Dessert." William stilled looked confused until he opened the box and grinned like a schoolboy, "You went to one of the most expensive bakeries in London to purchase éclair?" he asked curiously. Ronald nodded, he still was rather depressed until William reached into the back and pulled a silver thermos, "Coffee and dessert?" he asked sweetly. Ronald paused and looked at the Sommelier as he tipped the thermos with an inquisitive smile on his lips._

Somehow that made the date perfect and the one that they both loved the most, even if it was horrible. A soft chuckled filled his ears and Ronald snapped out of his food induced daydream and looked at the Pậtissier. He watched as he finished filling each of the elongated golden pastries and adding the stars to the end which had been punctured by the injector. Ronald jumped slightly, "I take it you enjoyed it," he commented. Ronald stared at the paper, there was a small pile of crumbs where the pastry had been. He nodded meekly and looked at Sebastian, "It was perfect," he said with a small smile, far superior to the ones which he had brought on the date. Yet, he was reminded of them, "Its funny the things we remember when we eat something," the waiter commented. Sebastian nodded in agreement, "it is," he replied. Ronald reached into his pocket and pulled out a note.

He hummed as he looked at it, "Lizzy is returning tonight and Ciel requested that you make something special for her," he stated. Sebastian's hands stopped working and he looked at the waiter, it was as though he were a deer caught at the headlights of a car. "Lizzy?" he asked in confusion. Ronald sighed, clearly he didn't know that Ciel was engaged, "Yeah, his Fiancée you've seen her, she was the curvy blond next to Ciel during dinner the night Ciel asked you to serve them dessert," he replied. He watched the chef stare at him, something was very wrong, he looked frightened and disgusted, it wasn't the reaction he was hoping for. It didn't make much sense, "I see," Sebastian said slowly as he placed the pastry bag on the table. Ronald nodded and handed him a note which was written in Ciel's rather harsh hand, "Here, the specifics," he commented.

Sebastian hesitantly took the sheet and leaned on the counter as his eyes skimmed over it. "She was in Paris for a show, he made an odd request though. He wants you to add Tribulus to a small box of chocolates for her," Ronald commented. Sebastian stared at him, he had a request similar to that one before, "An aphrodisiac?" he asked slowly as he set the paper down, "The haven't seen each other in quite some times, that's not a good idea." Ronald stared, he didn't know what it was but clearly Sebastian was more than educated on it, or at least knew what it was used for. "If he wants something like that he could just order it online," he spat as he pushed the page toward Ronald.

This was the first time he had ever seen Sebastian act this way, it was unusual and surprising to say the least, "You know Ciel won't budge on this," he replied. There was a pause as he looked at Ronald, he shook his head and clenched his fists, something was very wrong. "I won't do it," he stated firmly, "Dessert I can handle but drugging one's partner without their consent isn't what I see as fun. This stuff is dangerous," he stated. There was a pause as Sebastian looked at Ronald, "I won't," he reiterated as he crossed his arms and squeezed his biceps. There was something very off with the way Sebastian was acting, he hadn't seen the chef like this and others would chuckle and consider it a rather brazen thing to do. Sebastian saw it as disgusting, even in Paris it was a common practice to soften up a lover and make the night hot.

"Sebastian, when Ciel requests something you do it, he said that you could leave now to get the herb," stated Ronald. The Pậtissier looked up at the clock and groaned, "I'm not comfortable with this," he hissed. Ronald looked him square in the eye, "I don't care what is going through your head, you do as he asks or he will throw you out on the street," stated the waiter. He was quiet he had expected the Pậtissier to look frightened and yet there was a different emotions in his eyes, hope. "He will black ball you and make it impossible for you to work in London ever again," he hissed. Sebastian was still, he was clearly weighing his options, part of Ronald wanted to ask him flat out what was wrong with him, he seemed out of it. "I understand, tell Faustus I will be out for an hour to get something for the little master," he muttered as he slipped out of his jacket and into his rain coat. It had been raining again Ronald held out a black umbrella, "Here, borrow mine," he said softly. Sebastian looked at it and then to Ronald. "No thanks, I'll be alright," he said smoothly. Ronald watched the chef walk out the back door and roll his bicycle down the street before mounting it, he was clearly a Parisian.

Something was still bothering him, Sebastian looked terrified of the idea of infusing an aphrodisiac into the chocolate. "I should ask William why he's nervous, for future reference," he muttered as he walked back into the kitchen.

~~xXx~~

Angi stared at the name in the digital reservation book, he could remember Soma's face when he told him. There had to be a way out of this, they couldn't turn him away but having him appear on the floor would cause chaos. His soul purpose as Manager of Ciel was to prevent incidents like this from occurring. He drew a deep breath as he printed out the page and rose from his chair, he would have to face the guard dog sooner or later. With the white page in his hand with Ciel's logo on the top and the information below the header he walked up the stairs. He paused outside the door and knocked firmly, "It's Agni," he said nervously.

His heart was pounding as he waited for Ciel to give him permission. "Enter," called a gruff voice from inside. The tall Indian hesitantly opened the door and looked at the slate haired young man. "I'm afraid there's been a mistake," he said slowly. Ciel had been looking at an article until he heard the word mistake. His ears twitched like a dog who was about to snap and he immediately glanced up at Agni. "What happened?" he asked with irritation. It was the same tone he used for when Grell cost them money thanks to hitting on a customer, hush money. "If Grell has done something again I'll just take it out of his paycheck," he stated harshly.

Agni shook his head and unfolded the white sheet before placing it on Ciel's desk. "I'm afraid it's more complicated," he stated. The page felt as though it weighed a ton, Agni and Soma never made an error of this magnitude. Ciel picked up the page, never breaking eye contact, Agni bowed his head. He had never made an error this great, he kept the books, covered the checks, check employees and paid bills. This kind of error wasn't financial, he hoped it was, but it wasn't. Ciel's sapphire eyes widened, "What the bloody hell is this?" he spat. He shook the sheet and pointed at it furiously. "Ash Landers has made a reservation with his soon to be partner," replied Agni.

Ciel slammed his hands on the table, "I can see that, we can't call them and say we don't have room because then we would look like the fools!" he shouted. He had to figure out what to do, Ash was a traitor and a former employee. He was never supposed to return to the restaurant even as a customer. "How could you let this happen? You advise Soma!" Ciel shouted and pointed in the general direction of the desk that Soma worked at, his voice grew in volume as he began to tremble with fury. "Elizabeth comes home tonight, we are supposed to have a nice dinner and now you tell me that," he continued, "piece of fucking shit is going to be dining here?" Agni flinched, he rarely heard Ciel curse, in fact this was the first time he had heard it.

"Tell Claude, he can figure out what to do with his ex," he hissed as he walked around his desk. Agni stood there for a moment and waited for the rest of the command, "I'm going to chat with William, this better not happen again Agni," he hissed. The gray eyed Indian watched the sleek owner as he fixed his tie, "If it does you won't be working here much longer," he spat before storming down the hallway. Ciel was furious and ready to kill, in the past he had made things of this nature disappear with money and now he was going to thrust this on Claude's shoulders. He was about to tell the Head Chef that his ex was dining on the floor tonight, with a potential investor to become Sebastian's new rival. There was no way he could make it out of that in one piece.


	21. Chapter 21

_Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, several people went on vacation and I was left to a ton of over time. Here is the latest chapter. I want to honestly thank you guys for your patients as well as your commented. I'm sorry if I haven't PMed anyone… it's been crazy. I hope you enjoy and I want to thank my Beta for her patients. _

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**Chapter 21: Lightning Never Strikes the Same Place: Part II**

The air was thick with humidity as the rain finally fell, hitting the pavement with a soft tap washing away the grime from pedestrians, the dirt of the ear and creating a clean slate. It was cold and gave Sebastian a chill as he continued down the street to the address in question, he still didn't want to do this, yet he couldn't lose his job. Ciel had purchased him, if he were fired he would have to figure out how to pay back the demanding little master. He desired to run away, to flee from the hell he now lived in, his tires kicked up a small wave as they rolled through a puddle. If only he could figure out how to escape without being harmed. As he slowly turned into another street the small apothecary he had been searching for appeared. In moments he was pulling in front of it and dismounting, "I don't want to do this, I could just add a placebo and say I put it in," he whispered.

There was silence, Ciel would figure it out, he wanted Elizabeth to practically knock him over and last all night. He looked at the green and yellow awning which hung over the shop, it was the only thing keeping him dry at this moment. The windows were sparkling clean and he could see the warm brown interior of the shop. Glass jars lined the shelves that stood from floor to ceiling around the outside of it. There was a desk in the center with several modern scales and a register, as well as the store's licences. He slowly pushed the door open and listened to the light chime of silver bells that alerted the owner to his arrival. "Thank you for your assistance," said a familiar gruff voice. Sebastian's red eyes widened when he spotted an all too familiar dark green trench, standing beside a small oriental was Diedrich, his hair was dry, he must have arrived before the rain. The German looked over at Sebastian, he was expressionless as he looked from the damp Sebastian to the small oriental beside him. The Chinese man didn't seem happy to see Sebastian and generally glared at him as though he were a pest, "Ah, sorry we are clos-" the small man was about to say only for Diedrich to hold up his hand. "Sebastian, works for Phantomhive," he stated. Instantaneously the man changed his tune and smiled broadly, "Oh? Well then that's different, what can I get for you, Mister-?" he asked hesitantly.

"Michaelis," he replied and the small owner nodded, Sebastian wasn't sure if it was out of fear or respect, it seemed to be a coalition of both. "I need 300 milligrams of Tribulus," he said slowly as he held out the note in Ciel's handwriting. Diedrich's brown eyes were locked on the sheet as the shop owner hesitantly looked at it. Sebastian knew what he was thinking, "This is a dangerous aphrodisiac, are you sure?" he asked slowly. Concern was written on his small rather chubby face, Sebastian pointed to the sheet, "Ciel's order." Diedrich glared at the page and slipped a packet of papers into his inside jacket pocket before pulling his mobile. "I see, is he aware of it's affects, 300 mg, is a lot," he responded, "it's right at the legal limit I am able to sell you."

"I'm aware," replied Sebastian, his eyes glanced over to Diedrich who was tapping on the screen of his phone. "Then you are responsible for it," said the small herbalist as he walked over to the shelves and reached for the glass jar. There was a loud ping which made Sebastian jump, Diedrich stared at his phone and looked at the message, "Give him 300 mg, and then 200 mg for myself," he stated. The herbalist looked at the German in confusion, obviously he never ordered something like this, "Sir?" he asked hesitantly. powerful arms crossed Diedrich's chest as he stated, "I want 200 mg." The herbalist nodded as he began to weigh the herb, Sebastian was honestly confused, he didn't seem like the type that would require it. Diedrich was young, he wasn't graying and was very fit, why the German needed it was beyond him.

He watched as the small Chinese man wrapped both orders, Sebastian was about to pull a card when Diedrich handed the man a platinum Visa. "Both orders on this," he stated. The apothecary was confused, "Sir, you're over the legal weight I," he paused and noticed the name. "I will take care of it," he said after a moment. Once Diedrich signed for the bag he handed it to Sebastian, "Did you cycle here?" he asked curiously as they slowly left the shop, his eyes were locked on the Linus Roadster. The rain was pouring now, "Yeah," replied the Patissier as he looked across the street to see the sleek black Mercedes Benz parked across the way. "I'll drive you back to the shop," he responded, it was more of a demand than an offer. Sebastian shook his head. He didn't trust this man, something made alarm bells go off in his head, there was something dangerous about him. "Sebastian, it's pouring, please you don't need to get sick," he stated. Sebastian gripped at his coat, it was damp and he knew it wouldn't hold up in this.

"I can have your bicycle picked up," he stated with ease. Sebastian closed his eyes, he didn't trust him, there wasn't anyone he could trust. He was trapped in a cage, with no moves, "Come, I'll take you back, I'll send Bard to pick up your Roadster," he said as he gestured to the car. Sebastian found himself following the German, he may not have felt safe but he couldn't get sick, he had already seen Durless once and she wanted him to press charges against the man who raped him. The passenger door of the Mercedes was open as Diedrich waited patiently, out of the corner of Sebastian's eye he could see a tall blond man loading his bicycle into a hatchback. He took a seat in the dry car and watched as Diedrich slipped in.

"Why did Ciel ask you to make a treat with the herb in it?" he asked curiously. Sebastian ran a hand through his damp hair to push his bangs out of his face, "Lizzy returns tonight and he wants to make the night memorable," he replied. Diedrich's expression was the same as his own when he had learned of the plan. Obviously a majority of people didn't like this idea, "I see, why did you go to the doctor? You still smell like antiseptic," he added. Sebastian looked over at the man, his eyes squinted to see if he could find a pair of ears and a tail on the man, it was far too odd of a question. "I- I was getting a physical," he replied. Diedrich didn't believe him, Sebastian could see it in his face and yet didn't pursue the line of questioning, "I see," he replied. There was silence in the car on the way back to the restaurant for the rest of the trip.

Sebastian wasn't sure if it was because the German was focused on the road before him, or something he said. He parked at the back door and gently placed a hand on Sebastian's shoulder, "Be careful, and if you need to chat," he said smoothly as he pulled a business card without the Phuntom logo on it and handed it to him, "Call me, my mobile is on the back." Sebastian stared at the card in the man's rather rough large hands. "Why?" he asked hesitantly, "Why are you doing this?" Diedrich slipped the card into the bag and responded, "Simple, you look like you need a friend, besides you owe me a cup of coffee and a tort."

Sebastian nodded before opening the car door and leaving the warmth of the vehicle, in the background he can see bard rolling his Roadster through the loading dock. He walked into the back only to see Claude looking as though he's about to pass out. "What do you mean Ash is out there tonight?" he slowly asked, there was an edge of anxiety in his voice. In all the time Sebastian had watched him in the kitchen he had never seen this side of Claude, he looked beyond nervous and about to kill Soma.

Ash Landers was a familiar name, however Sebastian didn't know much about it, he had only heard it whispered with disdain. "What the hell is Landers doing in _Ciel_?" he shouted. Agni slowly pulled back, he held up his hands and looked a little nervous, Claude's temper had just flared like a gas oven being lit for the first time. "I'm sorry Claude, Soma didn't realize it had happened until now, apparently it had been made when he was ill last month," he replied. Claude's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, his golden eyes began to narrow, "Well now I have to deal with this!" he hollered, "I want that piece of shit out!" Sebastian swore the roof of the restaurant lifted off the building as he shouted.

~~xXx~~

William's head snapped up when he heard the shout, Claude obviously was furious now over what he had no idea. It wasn't unusual to hear the chef's wrath, although it had been quite some time since he had last heard it. Sebastian seemed to keep the Head Chef from shouting as much as he used to, "Will, can I talk to you for a minute?" asked a familiar and slightly timid voice behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see Ronald leaning against a barrel in the cellar. All of the wine was kept down there, it was rather dark but he made sure that there wasn't a speck of dust. "What is it love?" he asked softly as he placed the green bottle back on the rack and walked over to the young blond waiter. His hand slipped over Ronald's soft cheek and he gently caressed it with his thumb. He looked worried, "Ronny?" he asked softly, there wasn't anyone else around which meant it was alright to speak to him as a lover and not coworker.

"I was told to have Sebastian pick up an herb by Ciel, he freaked out," he stated as he tipped his head leaning into William's touch. Seeking comfort from his lover, "What was the herb and what did he want it to be used for?" asked William seriously, Ciel wasn't the nicest and he was concerned he would try to poison someone. "An aphrodisiac, and it's for Elizabeth's return," he replied. There was a pause, "I see, he must have disliked the principle of drugging someone for sex," he replied. Ronald shook his head, "No, he seemed frightened and disgusted more that Ciel had a Fiancee. I'm not sure why," he commented.

William ran his fingers through Ronald's hair, it was soft and tangle free he hummed as he thought about it. Sebastian had been acting strangely, something was very off, "Now that you mentioned it, Alois seemed rather distracted as well, something about the Patissier," he commented. William's hand played with Ronald's golden hair as he became lost in thought. "What's the Patissier's address? Perhaps his neighbors would know something," he suggested. "That won't help," commented a higher pitched voice from the stairwell, Alois was leaning on the railing, "Claude doesn't have his current address and he's been going home with Ciel," he replied. William's green eyes widened as he looked at the bartender, "What?"

Alois left his comfortable position leaning against the railing of the stairs which lead from the floor of the restaurant to the cellar. "Yeah, Claude stated he's seen Sebastian leaving with Ciel every night," he replied. William's emerald green eyes narrowed, he knew Ciel's craving for a young man who had more talent than he did. Sebastian was perhaps one of the best Patissier's in London currently. Critics were raving about Ciel's newest Patissier, calling him a breath of fresh air in the industry. If Ciel was taking him home he could only imagine the games the young man was playing, "Alois, is Diedrich involved?" he asked after a moment. The bartender looked confused, "Why would he be involved? He's Vincent's right hand man," he asked. William drew a deep breath, he knew better than the others, Diedrich was Vincent's eyes and ears. If he was part of this Vincent was at work. It was bad enough Tanaka had called him thirty minutes before Sebastian appeared telling him to hire the Patissier no matter what, he honestly began to wonder just who had hired Sebastian in the first place.

Tanaka had been at Vincent's side since Ciel was a child, he wasn't as dangerous as the Earl but had quite the skill at roping in new employees. Even Claude was brought in by the elderly butler, Ciel would have never looked at Faustus if Tanaka hadn't manipulated the applicants. After all Claude was the son of one of the wealthiest and oldest families in Nantucket, old money from across the pond. Lucius Faustus was the chairman of Faust Enterprises and Holdings, dedicated to green energy and technological advancement. He didn't know why Claude became a Chef, he never spoke of his father. The only reason he knew who he was was the fact that he had come across the article.

"Because, he looks after Phantom investments," he replied as he looked at the blond. Alois was about to say something when another person appeared on the stairs, "Spears, we have an issue," said Soma swiftly. One thing after another seemed to be going wrong and he rubbed his temples with his fingers. "What now? Shouldn't you bring this up to Agni?" he asked as he looked at the nervous purple haired Indian. His eyes were downcast and William could tell they were in trouble. "Angi is with Claude," he replied, "I messed up."

William and Ronald stared at him, "If you overbooked I can simply pull another table," said Ronald smoothly, it had happened once before, Soma was still new and they had a feeling the party in question simply called to state that they would need another seat. "N-no, I really fucked up this time," he stammered, "Ash Landers made a reservation and I didn't catch it. He will be dining here tonight." William and Ronald leapt to attention, that wasn't the kind of mistake they could afford to make, "He's dining with a potential investor for his own shop," he added. William froze, Agni checked all reservations, now he knew why Claude was going ballistic, the Head Chef was an atomic bomb waiting to go off.

Alois lost control and slammed Soma into the wall, "How the fuck could you screw that up! He's one of the only people on the list which we can't take a reservation for!" he shouted. Ronald ran toward the blond who had the young Indian by the collar, William was slightly surprised, he had never seen Alois act this violet. "I-I'm s-sorry," he struggled to say. Ronald was strong but nowhere near as strong as him, he simply wasn't sure how to react. Usually he brought Agni into this, but the manager was probably attempting to douse a now spreading fire in the kitchen. "Alois, let him go, it's not going to help," Ronald chided as he managed to wrench the furious bartender off of Soma. "I don't care! Ash is the reason we lost a star! He's the reason Claude is afraid to love!" he hollered. The cellar was silent. Ash Landers, had stolen all of Claude's work and pawned it off as his own, destroying the restaurant. He even falsified documents stating that the Head Chef never attended La Cordon Bleu.

"He didn't attend La Cordon Bleu," Soma hollered. William decided it was time to step in, "He did," he stated. Ronald looked at the brunet in confusion as he pushed his thick black rectangular glasses further up his nose, "You won't find Faustus in the records because he registered under Fairchild his mother's true maiden name. Claude Fairchild attended La Cordon Bleu at the same time as Sebastian Michealis, Claude transferred from the CIA and returned after spending a year studying there," he explained. Soma was silent, they had literally passed one another, the interview and note were the same. "Fairchild?" he asked. William nodded and looked at him, he silently prayed Claude would forgive him, "Fairchild, the name of a wealthy family in New York, in an action of rebellion his mother changed her last name and married Lucius Faustus," he explained. Claude was from money, he was raised in a cold house with a father that was never home. "He's from money?" Alois asked hesitantly as he lowered his hands. William nodded, he had known as soon as Tanaka called him and faxed the pages, technically Agni should have had them but Tanaka trusted William more. "Yes, old money too, on both sides. The Fairchilds are related to the Vanderbilts, making him upper class. Claude didn't want to run the company, he moved out after a fight and went to the CIA as Claude Fairchild. It wasn't until he started working here that he was forced to use Faustus, since he immigrated here," he explained.

William slowly walked up the stairs, "I'm going to go douse the fire, Alois I need you to go to the bar and finish setting up, keep Grell out of the kitchen," he stated. He walked past the bartender and looked into Soma's hazel eyes, "I want you back at the front, there is no way Ash can know that we are going to give him a wonderful meal," he stated. Ronald stood at the top of the stairs and asked, "And me?" The Sommelier looked at him and replied, "You are with me. I'm going to need back up for this." Ronald nodded and followed him a few paces behind. In all truth he was slightly surprised that the restaurant was still standing, he had expected Claude to knock it to pieces.

He paused outside the doors, "You can't be serious! The one thing you had to make sure never happened did! What the hell does Ciel pay you for!" ranted a clearly furious Head Chef. William slowly pushed open the door to see the Head Chef flushed in the face and eyes filled with rage, his glasses were gone and those eyes were as piercing as ever. Anyone else would have mistaken him for a demon, William knew he was one in the kitchen and not by choice. "He is I'm afraid, Agni, assist Soma, we need to snuff out this fire before it gets out of hand," William replied as he stood before the Head Chef. His eyes narrowed and he stood at his full height, usually he reserved this display for difficult customers who weren't being courteous to the server. Agni snuck away nervously and William turned his attention to Claude. "Okay Faustus, are you done?" he asked.

Claude crossed his arms and shouted, "How the fuck can I be done! He just invited the man who destroyed this place to come in through our front door!" His long finger jabbed in the direction of the front of the restaurant. "Yes he did," he replied, "Now pull it together, Ash is coming with an investor, we need all hands on deck especially yours," the Sommelier stated. Claude was quiet, "This place is like a ship, the GM handles the finances, Head Waiter has the floor and you, you have the most important position, Captain of the kitchen," he explained. Ronald suddenly understood why he was present, William was bringing the front and back of house under one person's command. "Ciel?" asked Claude with irritation, William smiled and responded, "Not in the equation, however there is one person who should be."

The Head Chef looked confused as William pointed toward the Patissier, who was currently using a mortar and pestle to crush herbs. "Him," he replied. Claude slowly turned around and looked at the Patissier. "He is your navigator, essential to this, if we are going to show Ash that we aren't to be trifled with, we need Sebastian to step up his game," replied William. He watched as the Patissier began to work with the herb and infuse it into the base of a truffle. If there was anyone who could get Claude through this it was Sebastian. Claude looked at Sebastian and began to wonder just what William was talking about. The Sommelier looked at the Head Chef seriously and continued, "You are the Head Chef. The Captain and Sebastian, he's your navigator. Use his taste and desserts." Claude looked over at Sebastian, William needed the Head Chef to pull himself together, even if it was going to kill him.

Sebastian picked up the whisk and pulled a mold with several shapes. "Then what do you suggest? Ash has seen everything I can do," he stated. William crossed his arms and looked at him, "Really he has seen everything from your days in university?" he asked with a note of disbelief. The Head Chef blinked twice and looked at William, "You and I both know, there is no way anyone would have looked at you before graduating if you weren't the best," he stated. Claude ran his hand through his hair and sighed, clearly he was unsure of himself and for the first time William actually saw Claude as a human and not a demon. "Don't show us _Ciel_," called Sebastian. William was quiet and looked at the Patissier who was pouring the chocolate into the mold, "Show them Claude Faustus," he stated before looking up at Claude.

Claude's gaze fell on a pair of determined garnet eyes, "Me? Why would someone want that?" he asked slowly. Sebastian placed his hands on the table and drew a deep breath, another first, Sebastian was actually putting himself in the line of fire, willingingly. "Simple, because Claude's taste is unique and powerful, like that faux roe you made," Sebastian elaborated as he smiled. William was confused for a moment, he had heard of a number of dishes but never that. "That whimsical but sincere bold flavor which can only be described as, you," the Patissier explained. The Sommelier watched the pair, Claude looked as though he had been given the highest compliment and asked to reach for the stars. "You think people want that?" he asked slowly. Sebastian smiled and nodded, "Give it a shot, hell people like my stuff and I deviate," he reasoned.

William reached over and squeezed Ronald's hand, the one person who had to say it, just did, perhaps he wasn't as essential to cooling the Head Chef as he once been. "I'm not the one who should be worrying about flavor," he commented, "Sebastian, Ash chose this place for a reason, and I don't think it's for me." The Patissier stared at him in confusion, William hadn't thought about it like Claude was, yet oddly it made sense. Ash wouldn't come to _Ciel _to just piss Claude off, he could do that anytime. He was bringing an investor, which meant he was trying to prove something. "Claude, worry about your flavor, I'll talk to Will and see what he has in dessert wines," Sebastian suggested as he left his station and walked over to the Sommelier. There was a plan forming in the Patissier's head, or at least he made it seem as though there was one. Part of William wondered if he had said something to put Claude's mind at ease so he could cook. Claude nodded and drew a deep breath, "I'm going to work something out," he stated before vanishing into his office.

"So you're looking for a dessert wine?" asked William, it wasn't until then that he realized Sebastian was in as much of a panic as Claude. "What the hell could I bring out that he hasn't seen! I have to have something that can floor him," he muttered in a panic. Ronald stared blankly, "What do you mean you don't have a clue what you are serving?" he shot. Like William, Ronald didn't like the idea of not knowing what the kitchen was doing. He had to work the floor and make things look easy, even when he was treading water. Sebastian nervously looked at him, "I'm not sure what to make, I said that to get Claude to calm down," he replied. The usually lively blond Head Waiter paled and looked as though he were going to pass out.

William looked at him and sighed, "What about a rum cake?" he asked. Sebastian's nose twitched with disgust, he looked as though he were going to throw the Sommelier out. "No!" he shouted, "Any two bit chef can make a rum cake!" he shouted. William jumped back and held up his hands, obviously he had stepped on a landmine that time. "Perhaps you just need to reconstruct a classic?" asked Ronald hesitantly. Sebastian looked at him and was about to say something when he noticed Alois wander in, "Why the fuck were there mangos in my bar? We don't even use these bloody things in french cuisine!" he raved as he hauled the box into the kitchen. Sebastian's eyes widened, it looked as though lightning had struck him, "Alois, how many mangos are in that box?" he asked as he walked past the pair and looked at the bartender.

The fact that there were mangos in the restaurant bothered William but that Sebastian was interested in them confused him more. "Michealis, why does it matter? You need to think about your dessert!" Sebastian reached into the crate and pulled out one of the bright orange and green fruits, he lifted it to his nose and sniffed it. "I am," he stated as he examined it in his hand. William looked confused as he watched the Patissier squeeze it and look at the crate. "I know just what to make," he said smoothly as he walked over to the counter and pulled a large knife. Ronald was about to question him when William placed a hand on his shoulder, "Leave him to it," he whispered before glancing back at Sebastian who was already working with the mango and planning the dish. There was still one thing which amused him, the reason why mangos had appeared in the shop.

~~xXx~~

The outside of Ciel was lit dimly with classic lamp posts and the entrance was softly lit, just as the former Patissier of the restaurant had remembered. Hardly anything had changed. A smile curved thin lips, his violet eyes looked around the entryway, even Soma was dressed the same. It had been just over a year, he was about to deliver a blow to the arrogant Head Chef of _Ciel_ and it's owner. Yet he didn't expect to be greeted by Ronald, he had expected Grell or one of the lackeys to seat him, never the Head Waiter himself. "Welcome Mr. Landers, I will be your waiter tonight," he said with a happy go lucky smile on his lips. Ash knew instantly something was up, there was no way Ronald would be so composed if he didn't have a plan. "Oh Mister Nash, thank you for joining me this evening," Ash called with a smile as he held out his hand to the stout New Yorker.

The rather tall man grinned as he followed him onto the floor, Ash was expecting to smell the same spices used by the Head Chef, only to be greeted with something radically different. Violet eyes wandered over the tables, the scent of wine, fragrant purees, seared meats, spices and finally something sweet and different. The restaurant looked the same and yet there was this steady warmth which it had gained. "Wow," said Nash with glee as he took a seat at the table his eyes fell on William as he walked over with a bottle of wine. "Compliments of the Chef," he said with ease as he uncorked the bottle. "Landers, you set this all up?" Nash asked curiously as he watched a beautiful merlot fall into the glass.

Ash stared at William and silently wondered just what was going on, "Tonight we have a special dish crafted by our chef," said William with ease as he removed the cork and poured two glasses, "A creative spin on a classic," he commented before placing the bottle on the table. "Dessert?" asked Ash, that was the reason he had decided to dine at Ciel's to show Nash that his dish was better than that of every patissier. A smile curved the Sommelier's lips, he looked as though he had managed to eat the golden goose, rather than a simple canaree. "That you shall see later," he replied before sauntering off.

Nash smiled and looked at him, "I suppose we get to see what this chef has," he commented. Ash was gritting his teeth, he knew Claude was going to step up his game but didn't expect Sebastian to affect him to the point that he was willing to risk releasing a creation of his own. "I expect it won't be as good as it had been," he remarked. He knew the demon of the kitchen wouldn't last under pressure. He had been the element he needed and never thought the chef would be dumb enough to fall for him. Claude was the golden boy of the CIA, everyone knew his name, even in France. "You seem to doubt him, did something change his abilities?" he asked curiously. Ash looked at him, "If you must know if he doesn't have a decent Patissier at his side he won't achieve anything. He can't," he stated.

William returned with a pair of plates, "Oh? I heard there was a new breeze in that kitchen," he remarked. Ash groaned, of course he had heard of Sebastian, the young man was honestly making a name for himself. "Yes well the current Patissier is an amature at best," he stated. The Sommelier didn't utter a syllable as he placed a pair of plates before them. Before he could saw more the powerful scent of champagne hit him and he paused, that wasn't a flavor Claude used in the past. "This looks devine," commented the rather chubby Nash as he lifted his fork, if this was the opening for the meal to come Ash began to wonder just who was cooking. A pair of lightly browned white scallops sat on a small bed of chives with a golden colored sauce on the bottom, it smelt of sweet vanilla and layers of champagne. The earthy notes of pepper and what smelt like the sea wafted from them as he slowly picked up his fork and slowly cut into them.

Ash stared as the knife glided through the tender flesh of the scallops, one of the most difficult things with scallops was to ensure that they remained tender and didn't turn to rubber. These were tender and the knife glided through them, he stared at their perfectly cooked centers gaped. Nash had popped a piece in his mouth and was purring, "My god," he muttered as he chewed slowly. A sudden wave of anger swept through the lavender eyed man, he didn't expect Claude to come back. He was hoping to spook the chef, not come out stronger. "I'm impressed, I thought you said that the Head Chef's cuisine didn't taste like this," Nash commented in confusion as he looked at them.

The rest of the meal passed in silence between the pair, Ash was praying that Sebastian wasn't as good as Claude's appetizer and main course. "What makes you so sure that you can top this place?" asked Nash curiously as he looked around the floor. Not a single customer looked unsatisfied, his eyes fell on a small couple in the corner, he noticed the slate haired young man hadn't taken his eyes off of them. It made him wonder just who he was. "Simple, you've tasted my work and everyone else's," he stated. Nash held up a hand to stop him, "Not everyone, this is the last Patissier," he pointed out. Ash grit his teeth, no one had seen or heard of this young man, they didn't even know who he was. It irritated him, a nameless, faceless, chef who had managed to charm numerous critics and customers. It had taken him months to get a single critic to taste his dish, and yet with Sebastian they appeared on day two. "You aren't taking it well that Ciel's newest Patissier is actually doing better than you did," Nash remarked. Of course he wasn't, he was one of the greatest of all time in the field, only to have a new coming take it all.

"He's new, don't worry his flame will die out," sneered Ash, "He's probably all flare and no technique." Nash hummed, his eyes glided over to the blond server and looked at him. He was carrying a pair of white square plates. As the plates drew nearer there was a faint smell of something sweet and tangy. "I mean honestly he's a no name, literally," Ash continued. The Head Waiter was grinning as he placed the two plates before the men. Nash looked from the plate to the Head Waiter, confusion was written on his face. "Ash, I thought you said this was a French Restaurant," he commented. The Patissier froze and swept his hand through his short white hair, "Of course it is," he remarked. Nash looked even more focused as he gazed at the dish, Ash looked down and paused.

A circular treat was resting on the plate, it was bright orange on top with a snow white and pink base. Vines of delicate chocolate caressed the side of the plate, calling out the small dots of chocolate on the cake's face. A small tuft of snow white cream rested on the top with a few slices of caramelized mango resting on the other. The bright, sweet smell of mangos and strawberries filled his nose. "W-What?" Ash stammered as he looked at the plate. This was the antithesis of all of his statements. Nash had his fork in hand and appeared to be devouring it with his eyes. "It's almost too beautiful to eat," Nash remarked before slicing it with the silver fork in his fingers. Ash looked at the dessert skeptically before finally digging in himself. He slowly slipped it between his lips and paused, it was smooth, rich and creamy. The mango danced on his tongue, it was refreshing, fragrant and sent a spark of excitement through his body. It was coupled by strawberries, which only emphasised the tanginess of the tropical treat. The cream danced on his tongue, it was as smooth as velvet and light. There was something more to it, the chocolate was fresh and warming.

Nash was purring on the other side of the table, "This is phenomenal, by far better than your own," he remarked as he looked at his spoon. Ash grit his teeth, and dropped the fork causing it to clatter and land on the plate loudly. "Ash, how do you think he got the cream to be so light yet smooth?" he asked curiously before taking another bite. There was a pause as the patissier clenched his fists and grumbled, "I don't know," he bit as he crossed his arms, this was irritating the hell out of him. He had tasted the young man's work before, he believed it to be luck but to have something this well executed amazed him. Nash's hazel eyes looked up, "Ash, I thought you would," he remarked. It was taking everything the white haired chef took to not leap across the table. He didn't think that the small morsel he had given Nash to taste would be thrown back at him. He could remember the first time he had cooked for his potential investor, Mango Bavarian Cream was the dish. The man looked nowhere as giddy and satisfied as he was now as he looked at the spoon. Ronald was walking by when Nash looked at him, "Oh you, um... Knox, right?" he asked brightly.

Landers felt his stomach churn. Nash was going to do something odd, he knew it. "Yes, is everything alright sir?" he asked smoothly with his signature boyish smile. It was honestly one of the waiter's smoothest moves, Ash had seen it many times over the years, it smoothed over irritated customers. "Yes, everything is fantastic, however," he said with a grin, "I would love to meet your Patissier. I know of Claude, but I wish to meet the Patissier." Ronald nodded and glanced to Ash, who was once again glaring daggers. He didn't want to meet the man who had bested him. "I'll see if he has time to spare," he replied as he nodded and walked toward the kitchen. Part of the white haired Patissier wanted to leap over the table and grab Ronald's arm to stop him.

Time passed as though it had taken centuries as Ronald attempted to grab the Patissier. "He must be in his mid thirties to produce something this good," Nash commented. Ash unconsciously rolled his eyes and groaned, he didn't want to see his rival and yet part of him desired to, jealousy was rearing it's ugly head as Nash began to obsess over the plating, taste, texture and obvious perfection of the desert in question. The doors opened to reveal the exact opposite of what Ash believed the Patissier looked like. He was expecting a heavyset man with gray hair and wrinkles, only to be confronted with a man who looked like he belonged in magazines. He was tall in stature, with a slender frame, noble features and raven black hair which oddly looked as though it was meant to be a mess. His black coat was pristine and he noticed his name embroidered on it in red, _S. Michaelis_. He strode over to them with grace causing a number of people to stare, clearly they weren't expecting a beauty to be hiding in the kitchen.

He stopped before the table and looked at the pair, "I was asked to come to the floor, I'm the Patissier," he replied eloquently. Ash felt his jaw pop open, there was no way this man was the one who had crafted the dish, it defies all rational, he was young, far too young for such flavors. Landers himself was in his mid thirties, but Michaelis barely looked 25. "Yes, it's divine, honestly wonderful," Nash gushed a faint blush appeared on his cheeks as he looked at Michaelis. There was a murmur which swept through the room as the Patissier's burgundy red eyes locked on Nash who was speaking to him. A smirk appeared on the chef's lips as he bowed slightly and replied, "I'm glad you are enjoying it." Ash glared at him, it was taking everything he had to not leap across the table and call the man a liar, he didn't believe in the Patissier's skills. No one was that good. "Ah this is Ash Landers, another member of your field," Nash said as he gestured to Ash. He smiled a little and looked at him, "A pleasure," he replied, although it honestly looked as though he were sitting on tacks.

"Likewise," Michaelis replied with a smile, his hands behind his back and looked ever so proper. Ash was beyond irritated, even his manners were top notch. Nash hummed, "Ash, why don't you tell him what you thought of his work?" Landers shot the man a dirty look, he didn't want to admit it was better than his own, "It was passable," he stated. There was a gasp and silence in the room, he could feel everyone's eyes on him, "Especially since you didn't make it, bring out the real Patissier, the one actually covered in flour," Ash demanded, clearly this man was an imposter. Michaelis looked confused for a moment, "What?" he asked slowly. Ash crossed his arms, for a pretty face he was slow, "You know the one who made this, it wasn't you. You're far too clean," he hissed. He watched the chef glance down at his coat and then to him, "I changed my jacket, I didn't want to trail flour from the kitchen to the floor. I'm pretty sure Ciel and Ronald would have my head," he commented. There was a chuckle which went through the room, making Ash grit his teeth.

"Even so, you're far too clean," Ash hissed. Michaelis was emotionless as he stood before them, still and masked, "Besides anyone can make a mango bavarian cream," he muttered with disdain, "especially one this half assed." Nash stared at Ash, his eyes narrowed with a warning glare. "What is wrong with it?" asked Sebastian curiously as his head tipped to the side and looked at the plate. Of course he was going to ask for the specifics, to which Ash couldn't list a single issue. In his head this was the best example of the desert, "The plating, it's outrageous," he stated. Burgundy eyes fell back to the plate and he hummed before rubbing his chin with his fingers, "I see, I thought it was rather pleasant, perhaps I was mistaken," he muttered. Nash cleared his throat which drew the pair out of their glaring match, "I believe it's plated beautifully, Michaelis, where were you trained?" he asked.

He watched the tall raven haired man's expression change into one of longing, "Paris," he replied. Ash became even more jealous, he was in Paris, the capital of pastry and skill. "I see, a real French Patissier," Nash mused. Ash winced, his words were like needles, Michaelis was destroying his hopes of ever actually destroying Claude and Ciel. "That explains your excellent skill, taste and overall execution, far better than Ash's," he remarked. Ash had lost it, he wasn't about to allow this. "I have an idea, we shall have a little contest, myself against you. Three challenges in which Nash shall craft," Ash stated with a smile.

There was silence and he could hear the familiar squeak of a chair not too far away, instantly he knew just who was approaching. He turned to see a pair of furious sapphire eyes glaring at him, "What is going on?" he asked sternly, as always Ciel was protecting an investment. Ash's lips curved into a grin, "I was just challenging Michaelis to a little competition, three challenges, three mystery ingredients and three desserts," he remarked. This was going to be easy if Nash was selecting them, he would have them in advance leverage and a real chance to win. "I see," replied Ciel, his expression changed from one of irritation to amusement, "Then I suggest we change how the ingredient is selected," he stated. Ash's eyebrows lifted as he looked at the young man, he didn't think Ciel would go with this, even if he was a fan of games. "A massive bowl will be created with thousands of ingredients, one of us will slip our hand into it and pull the mystery ingredient that the chef's must be used," Ciel commented.

Perhaps having Phantomhive in on the game would be interesting, after all he did love them so. "Wonderful, who will pull it?" he asked curiously. Before Ciel could say more a rather tall man entered, with slate hair similar to Ciel's, he had large brown eyes and a smile on his lips, "I will, I will also compile the list and even a web casting," he said with ease. Michaelis' eyes widened as he looked at them, even Ciel's own employee was shocked. "Ah Lord Phantomhive," Nash gushed as he stood and shook the man's outstretched hand gingerly, a beautiful ring glinted on his finger. An eerie reminder of his position, "Nash, how do you like our rainy city?" he asked teasingly as he returned the man's hand shake. Nash chuckled, "Well, I'm not sure it's amusing," he replied. Phantomhive nodded and looked at the chefs, "Perhaps a little heat is what we need. Ash, I heard you want to open your own place, this will give you a chance to showcase your skill. Sebastian, it would be nice for people to see the creator craft treats before an audience," he commented as his eyes shifted from one to another.

"I didn't think you would allow it," he commented, Phantomhive's eyes twinkled mischievously. Ash knew that look, it was far more irritating than the pretty-boy chef standing before him. "I think it will be interesting, after all my life has gotten rather dull, let's heat things up," he replied, "I will email the details and dates." Nash nodded as Ash attempted to wrap his mind around what was happening, Phantomhive was serious. He didn't expect that. "Well?" asked the older man as he looked at Ash. He jumped a little once he fell under his critical gaze, "Yes, I accept," he replied. A smile swept across his lips, of course Phantomhive wanted to play another game. "Wonderful," he said with ease before looking at the plates, "Knox, Rachel and I will have just the Mango Bavarian cream and have Will bring out the complementing wine," he remarked before wrapping his arm around the brunet and leading her to a table. Only now did he realize what was going on, Vincent Phantomhive had just accepted and decided to set up the challenge. He had no idea if this was good or not, it was going to be interesting.

~~xXx~~

Ciel stormed into his office once Landers had left. He couldn't believe his father's actions, he didn't want to face Ash, he had no idea if Sebastian could handle it. His blue eyes fell on his desk to see a neat package with the Ciel emblem on it. He pursed his lips before slowly opening it, small chocolates rested in the box with a note under the lid.

_As requested, the chocolates. _

_SM_

A grin formed on Ciel's lips, he had a wonderful idea. All night he had listened to Lizzy comment on how handsome the Patissier was. Perhaps he could have an enjoyable evening, "I wonder how flustered he would get, if that fickel raven ate one. Perhaps flustered enough to give Lizzy quite a welcome," he remarked as he remembered what had happened. He loved Lizzy's face as it twisted with passion and wondered what Sebastian would look like under him. "Perhaps I know a gift that would make her even happier," he commented, "Even if I have to share my things, there's no reason my toys can't play together." He took a seat at his desk before tapping his chin, his arms were crossed as he looked at them. "After all, they say lightning never strikes twice, who knows I may just get lucky," he commented with a gin.


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's Note: I'm glad you guys are so enthusiastic about this piece, I have yet to have Sebastian face Ciel, I realized I had to tie up some loose ends first, that's coming though. I also wanted to bring Vincent in a little more, as well as Diedrich, you guys have taken quite well to the pair. Don't worry it's still a complicated and fucked up a story revolving around Alois, Ciel, Claude and Sebastian._

_I just love writing those two. _

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I don't own Kuroshitsuji… imagine if I did… _

* * *

**Chapter 23: Sinful Fruit and Sweet Dreams**

Ciel's fingers swept over the lid of the box as he held it in his hands. Lizzy was planning on meeting him back at the penthouse, even if he honestly wasn't interested in having her with him. It was bad enough that he was going to have Sebastian staying with him. The temptation of somehow forcing one of the laced chocolates into the Pậtissier's mouth, regardless of his willingness was unbearable. Part of him knew that this relationship was very wrong; he had raped the Pậtissier, in no shape or form had the act been consensual. Yet, he hungered for another taste, somehow Lizzy wasn't enough anymore. Sapphire blue eyes closed in frustration as he imagined Sebastian's elegant fingers wrapped around a whisk and that look in his eyes as he crafted one magical treat after another. It was as though he were so wrapped up in the magic he had somehow pushed into each and every dish that the rest of the world, his life in fact, didn't seem to matter. It was all a minor detail in that moment of peace, something that irritated the young owner.

A sigh left Ciel's lips as he looked out the window, his apartment building was drawing nearer, bright glow of the light in his room was visible. "Lizzy," he muttered as his fingers caressed the side of the black box once again. The blond was ideal in every way, beautiful, intelligent and sweet, a loyal woman who was perfect for his father's actual business. The match was perfect, besides the fact that Ciel didn't feel a thing for her. He cared - but to an extent, each of her escapades simply depleted funds in his account. Money seemed to equate to happiness with Lizzy, at least that was what he had seen over the years. "Sir," called a gruff voice from the front, causing Ciel to flinch unconsciously and glare at the driver. "What?" he spat with a hint of venom. "We're back," replied the driver as nicely as he could.

Ciel ran his fingers through his rather messed up slate hair, as of late he had picked up the habit and it was now taking its toll. He couldn't seem to keep his tidy appearance for more than an hour, thanks to the rather irritating and honestly exasperating events which had transpired. The door opened with ease as the driver moved off to the side, it was a ritual that he had become more or less accustomed to. The air was slightly cooler than he had anticipated it to be, "It's rather nippy," he commented and the driver looked at him with a puzzled look. "Sir, it's the same temperature as when you had left the restaurant," he replied. The slate haired young man was quiet as he slipped the box into his blazer pocket. "I see, my office is far too warm at work, I will have Soma and Agni set up an appointment to have it looked at tomorrow," he remarked before disappearing through the doors and across the foyer, dreading every step. "Lord knows what Lizzy has planned in such a short period of time," he mumbled, dreading his next encounter with the supposed women of his dreams.

Alois' move in his office honestly frightened him, he didn't think the blond would catch onto the Pậtissier's strange behavior. He wasn't about to tell Alois, who had been abused both physically and sexually by his father, that he had actually raped Sebastian. That was asking for trouble, and more likely than not a phone call to both Vincent and Chambers, the two people he didn't have a way in hell of beating. His father wasn't the "King of Games" for nothing, with his devious tactics Ciel had seen business after business mysteriously fail and Phantom Toys come out on top. The press ignored this as well as the authorities; then again Vincent was in deep and worked with the authorities to a certain extent. Or at least Diedrich did. Over and over again he contemplated his actions, he had hurt Sebastian deeply and yet he tasted so sweet.

The talent the chef possessed, the ability to create dishes with ease, to comfort those in pain and enchant those who had never felt such. It irritated Ciel, Sebastian's ability to make even Vincent gape. The lift came to a halt, he was already plunging into darkness, his thoughts were that he should make it official. The silver doors parted and he stared at his blond fiancée. His jaw dropped as he looked at her short blond hair and large eyes, she looked as though she had grown up, the pigtails were no longer, the pink had vanished, instead she was standing in a sleek black suit. "Ciel?" she asked softly, even her loud voice was gone, it had transformed into something close to a whisper which resonated inside his core. Paris had made her grow up, it was shocking, in fact he didn't even want to use the chocolates any longer. He was going to save those.

He swallowed and looked at her, "Yes?" he asked hesitantly, she was beautiful. His eyes wandered her curves which were hugged by the trendy black suit. "Well?" she asked nervously and twirled, Ciel's eyes couldn't leave her, she looked as though she had stepped out of a magazine. "Stunning," he replied with a grin and kissed the back of her hand, "Welcome home," he commented. Even if he had said it before, somehow the magic of her appearance didn't wear off. Lizzy grinned and threw her arms around him, he was confused for a moment, "What did I say?" he asked slowly. She hummed and replied, "You finally welcomed me home, as though this was our home."

The slate haired young man was confused for a moment until he finally understood what she meant. She was reading farther into this than he had ever intended. He was going to leave the full explanation for later, right now he just wanted to forget about Landers and the game Vincent was planning. "Well then, what shall we do?" he asked slowly as he slipped his arms around her waist and smiled at her, clearly the chocolates were unnecessary. Without another word Lizzy led Ciel to the bedroom, he threw his jacket onto the sofa, abandoning his original plan. Perhaps he would use them another time. One in which they were actually required.

~~xXx~~

Vincent wandered through his house in a pair of black linen pants, they swayed as he moved, his robe billowing as he walked. His chocolate eyes were filled with fire as he wandered through the hallways, a bottle of water was in his hands, he tossed a brilliant red apple lazily as he continued through the hallway. Ash wasn't the type to take games lightly, Sebastian looked as though he were floundering and from what Dee had told him, he was simply keeping his facade intact. From what Dee told him, Sebastian was scared of everything, especially Ciel. It made him wonder just what his son had done to the Pậtissier. His footsteps echoed in the halls as he turned the corner and stood before the bedroom, the door was open a crack, he smiled as he looked at Rachel, he could see every inch of her soft white skin. His angel, he was willing to give everything to keep her, he felt his chest tighten.

He slowly entered the room and placed the bottle on the table, "Rachel?" he asked softly as he caressed her face, she shivered slightly causing the noble to smile. He placed the sweet red fruit on the table and slipped her under the supple silk sheets. She really was his angel, "Rest, Love. I'll be back," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to her head, her face looked years younger as she slept. Years of worry and chemo had left their trace on her, he simply prayed he would have another day with her. Recently she was tired often and he could see the bruising again, the fear of her relapsing was enough to petrify him. "I'm going to protect you, even if I have to tear you from death's grasp I will keep you with me," he whispered, his voice meant every word.

He plucked the fruit from the table and sauntered out of the room, now to craft his game. He had to make it fair but difficult, amusing and finally emotionally charged. Ash was nothing like Sebastian, he lived and died by his reputation, his name was something he desired to keep a hold of. He was going to destroy it, Landers, he shared the same surname as Angela, the woman who was causing him problems. The question was how far was this woven, it was possible that Ash knew what she was up to, yet at the same time he may be clueless. He gave the apple another toss before sinking his teeth into the crisp skin, feeling the sweet juice fill his mouth. It wasn't as tantalizing as Sebastian's treats, but it seemed to keep him content. "Something bold, and that I have control over," he murmured as he entered his study. Seated before the fire was a familiar figure of Diedrich, "I hope I didn't interrupt your evening," he commented.

Vincent took another bite of his apple and nodded, "Not really," he remarked before taking a seat on the sofa across from Diedrich, he hummed as he folded his legs under himself and lazily leaned on the back of the black leather sofa. "It seems like both you and Rachel had a good night," he commented with a smirk. Vincent hummed as he took another bite, the crisp crunch as his teeth broke through the apple's flesh filled the air, "You can't seem to break that habit can you?" asked Diedrich curiously. The slate haired Earl chuckled darkly and looked at the ruby red fruit, his finger traced over where he had taken a chunk out of it. "Nope, you remember when it started?" he asked curiously as he perched on his desk and crossed his legs. He leaned on one of his hands causing his robe to swim around him. He leaned back and tilted his head curiously, a smirk played on his lips as that soft slate hair fell in his chocolate brown eyes. "Of course," Diedrich replied, his eyes wandered over the man, it was impossible to deny the Earl's allure, especially after spending hours ravaging his wife.

"College, Weston College, to think we were pinned against one another," he hummed as he tossed the fruit and caught it with ease, "Prefect Diedrich von Wolfstadt of the Green Lion dorm," he chirped. Diedrich stiffened visibly, as though to straighten up to his full height in the leather backed chair to make himself seem more intimidating. Vincent's eyes danced at the display of intimidation, he wasn't easily intimidated, in fact he preferred to be the reason why people ran. "Without good reason, after all if I recall correctly you were the famous prefect who broke every rule in the book," the German shot with a hint of irritation. The days of old when the Sapphire Owl Prefect would challenge every hint of authority and drive the Lion up the wall was more than enough to keep the healthy competition between houses alive. "Oh come now, don't tell me you didn't enjoy those days, after all it was you who got me addicted to these," he commented as he threw the red orb at Diedrich. His hand shot up and caught the flying orb with grace, "After you managed to have your way with a certain Scarlet Fox Prefect," he commented.

Once firm lips curved into a grin, Diedrich clearly remembered those days, "Nash always did love a ripe apple after sex, besides, it's been awhile since I had a reason to bite such a sinful fruit," he remarked before throwing it back to Vincent who placed it on his desk. The fire danced behind the massive chair causing Diedrich to gain an eerie aura. "I saw Nash this evening, he's doing rather well for a boy from across the pond, both money and nobility," Vincent commented as he lazily ran his fingers through his hair. Brown eyes widened as the bulky German looked at him, obviously Nash hadn't contacted him, "What's he doing in London? I thought he was based in Nantucket and New York," he commented.

Vincent shifted, he didn't expect Nash to call Diedrich up and ask for a rendezvous, however he had hoped the man didn't at least say hello. Nash had married a Danish noble a few years back and was happily making his millions in Manhattan. "He is, however he's making an interesting investment," Vincent continued, "He's investing in a restaurant run by Ash Landers." There was silence in the room, naturally they both knew of Ash's betrayal and every minute detail of his dismissal from _Ciel_. Vincent had been the one to deliver judgement that day, his son wasn't as quick and keen as he had been, in fact he was far too light handed. He simply wanted to fire Ash; it was Vincent who destroyed him not only in England but Paris, Milan, New York, Tokyo and Beijing as well. His reach was limitless, he took great pleasure in crushing him, now for Nash to stake an investment was irritating. "We are dealing with the Landers twins, first Angela makes her appearance and now Ash returns," commented Diedrich.

It was unusual to have them both in London, the pair were known for fighting like cats and dogs. Both attempting to mark their territory and push the other out, Angela using drugs, smuggling and prostitution while Ash preferred espionage, larceny and naturally manipulation. Together the pair were dangerous, it made him wonder just what they were playing at, "What was in the crates?" asked Vincent offhandedly, he had to know just what the woman was attempting to march through his port. Diedrich's eyes floated to the decanter sitting on the side board with a pair of sparkling crystal highballs beside it. The amber liquid looked more and more inviting every passing second. "May I?" asked the German as he rose from his seat and gestured to the sideboard, clearly the manifest was wrong. "Help yourself," Vincent said with ease as he rested his hands on his lap and watched his loyal protégé like a hawk.

He could hear the amber liquid hit the bottom of the glass and the distant ring of crystal hitting each other, "The manifest stated it was simply bodies from overseas being brought home for burial," commented Vincent. Diedrich lifted the glass to his lips, the Earl watched as liquid courage hit his lips and ran down his throat, slowly giving the German enough confidence to say what was going on. "There were corpses, however upon further examination we discovered that they were embalmed while alive," he stated, his voice died away slowly, this wasn't all the information, not merely enough to make the man turn to the decanter for comfort and confidence. "Once they were opened we found that a great deal of product had been stuffed inside them, the dogs couldn't smell it in the corpses since the embalming was fresh," he added slowly, his grip tightened on the crystal highball resulting in his knuckles turning white.

Instantly Vincent understood, Diedrich accepted a great deal of things, however child abuse and the dishonor of violating a body in death for profit were two things he couldn't stand. "The dead should be honored, not used as bloody gift wrap," seethed the German. He was trembling with anger as he hissed, "Dee, there were three other creates, what was in them?" asked Vincent in an attempt to distract the German noble before he broke the glass in his hand. He had seen that vice like grip in action many times, however broken crystal had a tendency of biting it's offender. "Two simply had antiques and assorted furniture. The third was the most interesting, it contained twenty women, nearly dead. Apparently shipped hear from Eastern Europe to work as prostitutes in order to pay their debts," Diedrich replied, his grip easing off the glass. Vincent hummed curiously as he hopped off his desk and walked over to the fire, he need to think this through.

Ash and Angela wouldn't be in the same city without knowing it, that was impossible. Ash wouldn't show up now if he wasn't up to something, Claude had been there for years, he had no reason except to fester a certain Pậtissier. His eyes were locked on the orange glow in the hearth. Sebastian was the newest to the crew, better than Ash could ever dream of, even in Landers' prime he didn't hold a candle to Sebastian. Ash must have known this after tasting the Mango Bavarian Cream, it's execution was beyond perfection. Sebastian ensnared the senses with each bite, something Ash could only dream of. Angela was growing bolder and bringing her filthy business to his shore, something he didn't appreciate. She was going to soon start getting in the way of his work, there was one thing that didn't add up, why the pair were working in London. Of all the cities to attempt to overrun, they chose London. There was only one person who seemed to make sense, "Sebastian," Vincent muttered as he stretched out his hands on placed them on the warm wooden mantel. He bowed his head as he attempted to understand what was going on.

"We are missing a piece, Ash is out for blood as is Angela, but if Landers wanted he could have taken Claude down long ago," Vincent stated, his voice echoed in the room, if he didn't hear the chair groan as Diedrich took a seat he would have sworn he was alone. "Now he chooses to show up when Ciel has a new Pậtissier and decides it's the perfect time to throw down the gauntlet? Something is off and it must deal with Sebastian," he muttered in frustration. There was always a reason for power struggles, now the question was, just what he was missing. Angela wanted to claim London and Ash wanted to obliterate Ciel, but rather than doing it when the restaurant was at its weakest he chose when it was the most powerful. Landers wasn't that chivalrous, he would kick someone while they were down, he had seen it before. "Diedrich, dig further into Sebastian's past, there must be something that could tell us what is going on here, we didn't have these issues until he appeared in _Ciel_. I need to know just what's going on," he commanded, his tone dared the German to question his motives. Ciel was far too busy messing around to think about just what was happening before him.

"Of course, do you still wish for me to tail Sebastian?" he asked slowly. Vincent paused and gazed over his shoulder, he could tell the man was exhausted but he also didn't trust Sebastian to be alone. "Yes," he replied. There was a pause, Diedrich hadn't left, "What aren't you saying?" asked the Englishman as he pivoted and faced the German. His chocolate eyes narrowed dangerously, "Sebastian went to the doctor today, specifically Madame Red, he smelt of powerful antiseptic and ointment," Diedrich replied. Instantly Vincent understood what he was saying, "Who took him?" he asked slowly.

"Faustus."

Claude had taken him, now things were complicated, the Head Chef would have never done something like that unless he had a reason to. "Dee, he was at the herbalist purchasing a powerful aphrodisiac, above legal limit for my son. Now you tell me Faustus is in the picture," he stated. He had watched Claude fall into the darkness, it was painful to watch a proud man become reduced to nothing after a betrayal like that. He had fallen so far, part of Vincent wondered if he would ever stop, "Dee, if something happens, I don't think Claude can handle another break. Lucius has been calling to name Claude as his heir," he mused, "If Faustus accepts, we will lose a chef and perhaps a partner." Even though he was protecting Sebastian, he didn't want to hurt Claude, he had been through enough. Enough pain after being disowned for his sexual preference, enough after Ash breaking his heart and more than enough the day he lost two stars.

"I can't watch them both," replied Diedrich slowly. Before Vincent could commented he heard a cough, he blinked as he looked in the doorway and stared in confusion, "I'm sure I can be of assistance," replied a silky smooth voice with a ring of professionalism and authority.

~~xXx~~

The night had finally arrived, the rush of walking onto the floor slowly began to fade as a heavy sigh was heaved from the lips of an exhausted Pậtissier. The raven haired chef gratefully plopped into a chair and ran his fingers through his hair, it had been a tough night, between making the chocolates for Ciel and the impromptu call to the floor, his nerves were shot. When Ronald had first informed him that a guest desired to see him on the floor, he was terrified. The last time he had been called to the floor was by the owner, which meant he was meeting VIPs. This time he was met by a man referred to by Earl Phantomhive as Nash, a gourmet who knew a great deal. Yet he wasn't the one who terrified him, sitting across from him was a man with a far too striking resemblance to Angela Blanc. At first he thought it was her, those violet eyes held a great deal of animosity toward him and the white hair which seemed to frame his face didn't help. It made him far more intimidating, the only thing which made him different was gender, and that was even confusing. Ash looked far more feminine than masculine, he wouldn't have realized that the man in question was male if he didn't speak.

His words echoed in his ears, he had managed to stand tall and not falter, but inside he was quaking in fear. He could hear the riding crop and that clipped tone which, he swore was reserved just for him. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath, once he realized it wasn't her, he eased a little, only to hear the challenge. It seemed as though he were always fighting, he needed rest, and yet life threw him one hurdle after another. It was bad enough Claude had seen his marred skin and Madame Red treated the tearing in his rectum with the knowledge he had been raped. Ciel, his attacker had trapped him in an impossible loop, no matter how he looked at it he was locked inside of a gilded cage. For the first time he saw an uneasy Head Chef, Claude was always strong.

Sebastian rested his chin on the palm of his hand as he remembered attempting to give the man some confidence. It did the trick, just as the note in the past had, he felt happy to finally give another chef a boost. Even if it wasn't his chef, it was still someone who needed a push. His burgundy eyes fell on his knife bag, he would have to face Ciel eventually. Oddly after telling Claude to show who he was, the chef managed to become the strong and powerful chef he had met on day one. William had tried to give Claude strength but somehow his words were the ones that gave Claude power. Those golden eyes gained a spark of fight as he looked at them, it was as though he had rekindled something long forgotten. He has seen the chef at work before, but tonight it was as though he had met a different man, one that honestly didn't care what others thought, he simply wanted to cook. To create food which enchanted others, "Michaelis, why haven't you gone home?" asked a silky smooth voice.

Sebastian's eyes widened before his head snapped up, Claude was standing in a pair of jeans, a black see and carrying his knife bag over his shoulder. His shirt clung to his chest, showcasing every muscle, making the Pậtissier flush. "Sebastian?" asked the voice curiously as he slowly slipped one of his large hands over the Pậtissier's forehead. Sebastian stared in shock as he felt the warmth which emanated from it surge through him. It was a tender touch, light and soft, something that he hadn't felt another man give him before. He paused and realized this same feeling of comfort and safety was identical to the morning he had woken in Claude's arms. "You don't feel warm, it was raining and I heard you rode your bicycle in it," the Head Chef commented, "You should be more careful, stunts like that will get you very sick," he went on to say. His hands was still pressed to Sebastian's forehead, he was honestly fighting the urge to lean into it.

It was safe, serine even to be touched by him and know he wasn't going to be injured, to know that the blows he was accustomed to would never be delivered by those hands. "Sebastian?" Claude asked again. Sebastian stiffened when he remembered Claude being gay and that he was now being touched by him. He slowly pulled back and looked at him nervously, "Are you sure you're alright?" asked Claude sincerely. The Pậtissier nodded, his black hair swayed as he did so before rising from his seat. "Why are you here anyway?" asked Sebastian slowly, Claude was usually gone by this time. Claude arched a brow and looked at him skeptically, "Gone? I'm the last to leave," he said smoothly, the sound of jingling filled the air, burgundy eyes shifted over to Claude left hand, he was twirling a ring of silver and gold keys around his finger. He looked like a coy guard playing with them. "You what?" asked Sebastian slowly as he watched the keys as they jingled.

"I'm the last to leave, I have the only set of keys for back here, so I lock up," he elaborated. Sebastian paled and stumbled backward, that meant all of those nights he thought he was the last to leave and muttering about issues he wasn't alone. It made him wonder just how much the other chef had heard and knew. "I," Sebastian mumbles as he snatched his bag and flung it over his shoulder, "I have to go," he stated. Claude's eyes widened in shock as he watched the chef dash out the door.

~~xXx~~

"Sebastian!" Claude shouted as he sprinted after him, he was holding the young man's jacket in hand. It was damp and he hissed before turning on his heel, he could hear the rain hitting the roof, "Sebastian!" he shouted down the empty street. The Pậtissier had once again vanished before his eyes.

His shoulders dropped and he sighed, "I just wanted to congratulate you," he whispered, "and thank you." He looked at the jacket in his hands, his jacket, he was by far smaller than Claude, his shoulders were narrow and chest smaller. Yet he was a beauty, one of the most creative men he had ever met. His fingers traced over the fabric, he hung his head as he slowly began to wonder what he was thinking. "Claude?" asked a small voice, it wasn't until now the Head Chef realized he was standing in the rain, he felt a droplet roll down the side of his neck. "Claude, come on, let's go back inside. I'll pour you a drink," called a rather solemn voice, he looked over to see Alois standing there, his azure eyes seemed to know all. He slowly walked back toward the restaurant, "Come on, perhaps you can find a little comfort in a warm glass of brandy and a friend," Alois said with ease. For once he was teasing him, taking jabs at him or attempting to get into his pants. "Be careful, you actually sound like a bartender," sneered Claude. Alois chuckled and gave him a pat on the back, "I know, after all it's what Ciel pays me to do," he commented.

He held his hand out for the keys to the back door, "Hey I'll lock it, we're going to a friend's place for a drink," Alois commented. Claude paused before placing his keys in the outstretched hand, it was small and he couldn't help but suddenly realize this was the first time that Alois was willing to serve him. Before he simply imposed on him, now he was actually asking for a drink. He heard the tumblers slap in place as he turned the key and hummed, "Okay, I'll take you to the best place," he replied. Claude looked at the street and began to wonder if this was the right move, he didn't need liquor, which would only make things cloudy. "I think I'll just take a walk," he replied after a moment as he took his keys from Alois. The Bartender stood there for a moment in confusion, "Why?" he asked. Claude sighed as he slipped his hands into his pockets, "I need to think, I just," he sighed, "I need space." Alois nodded and watched as Claude left the restaurant, Sebastian's jacket in hand. "No, you need to think about him," whispered Alois with a sad smile, "You love him, and yet, you are afraid to fall further."


	23. Chapter 23

_It's been crazy and I want to thank all of you for hanging in there, Fair is around the corner and since I an assistant leader I'll be swamped until fair is over. Tis chapter was edited by Colleen Winter, a friend of mine. My Beta is working on it, she had internet issues, which is part of the reason why it's late. I hope you enjoy what I have in store. I will post the edition that my Beta has corrected once it's done. _

_~Kuro_

* * *

**Chapter 23: Second Chances**

The rain was finally letting up, as if to show that there was some mercy in the world, even if it was just a sliver. Pools of water rested on the damp surfaces of the street, echoing the scenes above, only to be disturbed when foot falls disrupted the surface. The cold rain had soaked through Claude's shirt and hair, his damp hands grasped the black jacket so tightly that his knuckles were white. Sebastian had managed to survive Ash and his investor, however, he was now going to be forced into an even more dangerous game. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Vincent wouldn't go easy on them. He didn't know how. This competition would either make Sebastian or break him, part of Claude wondered just how much longer the fragile chef would last.

Sebastian's words may have been strong that night, however he could tell there was concern in the chef's eyes. He looked as though he were about to dart out of the kitchen. The chocolates he had been making were nowhere to be seen on the floor, which worried him. Even if it was a private order Sebastian had included small portions to go out to VIP customers, and yet this one he didn't. Ever since he had passed out that one day, something was off. It hurt to look at him and Claude felt the need to wrap his arms around the raven and assure him that he was safe.

Claude's footfalls rebounded off the walls of the still streets as he continued, Alois was sincere about the drink, liquor would only make it worse. He knew the blond loved Ciel with all his heart, and yet the slate haired young man couldn't seem to return his affection. Alois had been abused but was slowly getting over it, but was concerned about Sebastian. Claude drew a deep breath. He couldn't find Sebastian for an hour and could remember picking the man up off the floor and looking at his marred skin. The sight of such beautiful skin covered in angry red gashes and purple bruises nauseated him. Sebastian was gentle, beautiful and over all fragile, no one had the right to treat him in such a way.

He was pulled out of thought by a soft cry, it was faint and barely audible over his own musings. The Head Chef slowly peered down a dark alley between two shops, it smelt rancid and made him nearly gag. Rotting food wasn't a smell he appreciated, he slowly looked down it and sighed, "Must be my imagination," he muttered. He stood before a garbage can and ran his fingers through his hair, it was even wetter than he thought. The golden eyed chef was about to leave only to hear a soft cry again, he turned his head and stared at a small trembling black cat in a discarded cardboard box. The light which streamed out of one of the back kitchen windows was just enough for him to realize how small the creature was. Without a second through Claude was on his knees and reaching into the box, his fingers ran over damp silky fur, he could feel every bone on the kitten and it reminded him eerily of a certain raven. "Come here. I won't hurt you," he said softly as he gently picked her up.

He held the kitten close to his chest and ran his fingers over her fur, he was startled when he saw that she possessed a pair of ruby red eyes, "You really are like him," he whispered as he looked at Sebastian's coat. He shook his head and slipped his own off to wrap the small creature in. He didn't want to ruin Sebastian's coat anymore than he already had. "Now what to call you," he mused as he carried the small creature in his arms toward his apartment.

~~xXx~~

Vincent slowly turned to face the owner of the smooth voice which emanated from the doorway. Standing in his standard black suit without a tie was none other than William T. Spears. His green eyes were filled with the same fire that had sparked his own fascination for food. His dark brown hair was down and he looked at ease, oddly. Most people found Vincent intimidating, then again Spears was accustomed to dealing with the higher end of clientele. The rich and powerful seemed to all have personal armies. "Will?" asked Vincent in confusion, the Sommelier was the last person he had expected to see standing there.

"It's been awhile, I'm glad that you still remember your school boy days," he commented as he gestured to the apple. Even though William didn't look it, he was about the same age as Vincent and Diedrich. Vincent had always considered the man lucky that time hadn't taken much of a toll on him. "Naturally, why would you want to look out for the pair?" asked Vincent slowly as his eyes fell on the man. He couldn't seem to understand why he was even in Vincent's home, not that he wasn't welcome. William leaned on the back of one of the leather wingback chairs and hummed, "Simple, Claude's been through enough, as has Sebastian from the looks of it. Why not ease his pain? He's useless if he isn't happy," he commented. Vincent wasn't convinced if there was one thing he knew, it was that William didn't do anything unless there was something in it for him.

Vincent crossed his arms and looked at William, the man was the only one who could stump him, in many ways the Sommelier was illegible. His eyes gave away nothing, his cheeks didn't change in the slightest, his stance never wavered. In many ways William was one of the best poker players he knew, it was impossible to tell if he were bluffing. "Why?" he asked again, knowing that wasn't all of it. William ran his hand through his hair and hung his head for a moment, "Simple, I like being able to walk onto the floor and know that my customers are sincerely enjoying their evening, if Sebastian can give Claude that kind of strength then he should," he stated.

~~xXx~~

Apprehension was the only emotion which, seemed to run through the Pậtissier, he had yet seen Ciel after waking up on the kitchen floor. Elizabeth had served as a small distraction for the young man, however it didn't change the fact that it was only now that he learned the young man was engaged. Clearly Ciel didn't have as many morals as he did, in fact, he lacked them. The kitchen in Ciel's flat was uncustomarily cold the Pậtissier, usually kitchens were the warmest place for him. A sanctuary from what he seemed to call his life, only this kitchen wasn't, his eyes fell on that same spot in which he had woken in after that nightmare. His skin crawled as he slowly walked past it, Francis may have been the demon of his dreams and memories, but that was it. He held no form, nothing to physically harm him. Ciel on the other hand, was far more terrifying. He had seen what the young earl had done to Ash. With the stroke of his pen he had demolished what little following Landers had as well as barred him from working in any respectable restaurant in not only London but around the world.

Slender white fingers slipped through his black hair as he attempted to figure out what he was going to do. Ciel would never confess to harming the Pậtissier, especially if there was a chance it would hurt his standing as a noble. He sighed as he slowly leaned on the counter and looked at his haggard reflection in it's slick surface. "What am I going to do?" he asked after a moment. He slowly sat up and looked at the kitchen cabinets. The first thing he had to do was make breakfast, even if Ciel wasn't up yet. He didn't want to risk another painful encounter.

Sebastian slowly walked over to fridge and opened it, "Perhaps I should twist a classic," he mused as he looked over the inventory of the appliance. His burgundy eyes wandered over the shelves as he determined what he was going to make. Everything in the fridge was clean, it didn't even look like it's contents had been touched since they had been purchased. He slowly picked up the carton of eggs as well as milk, tomatoes, a green bell pepper, a few jalapenos, onion, and fresh basil. His fingers walked the shelves as he grabbed a block of yellow cheddar and then a crab. His lips quirked up into a smile as he thought about the food he had on the coast, the warm bouloubasis and fresh fish which the fisherman hoisted off their ships daily. The salt in the air, call of vicious gulls and the holler of fishermen selling their wares right off the ship, all things that filled his memory. He had the opportunity to spend some time by the coast. It was brief but long enough for him to learn the many different tastes of the French people.

Sebastian spun on his heel and went looking for the omelet pan, only to learn that the kitchen was state of the art, every tool he could ever dream of was present. Perhaps even being trapped in hell he could find away to lessen the pain. The sound of shells cracking as the Pậtissier tapped them on the pristine white glass echoed through the flat. "Butter," he whispered as he wandered back to the refrigerator and pulled a cardboard box. In moments there was a fork between the Pậtissier's fingers as he gently whisked a single egg yolk and two whites together, the sound of the metal fork hitting the glass rang through the apartment. It was oddly soothing to hear in the silence which seemed deafening. Once the eggs were a smooth mixture his eyes wandered to the stove, "Gas, I need matches," he muttered as he walked over to the massive range and turned on the gas. He opened each drawer with ease as he looked for a small book of matches, there had to be one in the kitchen. It made little sense to have a gas range without something to light it.

After a few seconds of digging he pulled the book of slender matches, "I wonder if he even eats crab," Sebastian murmured as he struck the match and slipped it under the element. In moments a bright blue flame appeared. His small apartment in Paris had a gas rang, it was a fraction of the size and half the time took an eternity to light, but it was his. Ciel's was a dream, between size and the sheer heat it put out, he wasn't sure if he would ever be accustomed to it. The black Teflon pan rested on the stove as he slipped a knife into the now softened butter and scraped it into the pan, a hiss was released as he did so. The smell of butter filled the room and wrapped around him like a security blanket, chasing away all of the demons in his mind. "Julia Childs always said that there was one basis rule in French Cuisine," called a soft but bright voice. Sebastian jumped slightly, he hadn't anticipated anyone to be up and about, standing in one of Ciel's shirts was a certain short haired blond with massive emerald eyes, sparkling like gems in the morning light. She was smiling and leaned against the counter of the island.

"Good morning," Sebastian said sheepishly, he had a feeling this was the fiancée he had hurt and didn't even know it. The young woman nodded as she perched herself on one of the many wooden stools lined up against the island. "Good morning, just out of curiosity why is the Pậtissier staying with his boss?" she asked as she leaned on the palm of her hand and tapped her fingers against the black granite counter. She had a subtle tan which made her seem golden rather than Sebastian's own lily white, making her fingers stand out even more against the stone. Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat which was slowly developing, he didn't think he would have to face her before Ciel, he actually hoped he would never have to.

"The pipes at my flat broke and I needed a place to stay," he replied casually, part of him prayed she wouldn't pursue the issue any further than this. "I see," she commented as her eyes fell on the polished countertop, her fingers slowly drew designs on it, tracing the many trails of quartz which glistened in the slick stone. "So what's for breakfast?" she asked with a hint of curiosity, her eyes were locked on the pan and the small glass resting on the glass cutting board. Sebastian hummed and replied with a shrug, "_Crêpe d' Œuf avec du crabe_. (1)" He froze and was about to say it in English when she purred and replied, "_C'est magnifique. Je t'aime crepe (2)_." Sebastian's burgundy eyes widened, French was the one language he hadn't expected to leave her lips, it was brutish but nonetheless his language. "_Tu parles au fancais_? (3)" he asked hesitantly as he slowly turned to look at her. The young woman giggled and nodded, "I went to Paris for a bit and learned the language while I was working, Ciel speaks it too, don't let him fool you. His is far better than mine," she stated.

The pậtissier was even more confused as he looked at her, Ciel made it seem as though he didn't know it, yet she stated he knew it. "Oh," Sebastian said slowly as he turned his attention to the pan and slowly added the egg. He loved the scent of fresh basil as he plucked it from the stalks and sprinkled it into the pan. He was suddenly reminded of a certain golden eyed Head Chef. Claude's warm arms that had wrapped around him and the medley of spices which clung to his skin. His fingers danced unconsciously as he picked up the bright yellow block of sharp cheddar and began to grate it. "What were you doing in France?" asked Elizabeth, clearly the silence of the pậtissier irritated her, he couldn't blame her. After all this was Ciel's flat, not his, he was the out of place object in the crime scene. "I grew up in a small province not far from Pari, and then went to school there," he replied slowly. He felt nervous speaking to her, he didn't like talking about his past, in fact he hated it. There was always the threat of them finding out he was an orphan and who his father was.

He noticed how the blonde straightened up immediately, "You're a native?" she asked with curiosity. Sebastian nodded curtly before picking up the wad of bright cheddar and sprinkling it in the pan. She was smiling brightly and asked, "Where did you grow up?" There was silence as Sebastian debated on whether or not he should tell her, "A small town in _Champagne_, there were fewer than four hundred people living there at the time," he commented. He had to give her something to appease her, "How quaint! What was it like?" she asked gingerly. Sebastian felt his stomach churn, he didn't want to face this now, it was bad enough he would have to look at Ceil now he would face Francis. He slipped the thin egg crepe out of the pan and onto a pristine white plate. He then began to make the next crêpe, they had to cool before he could stuff them, "Would you mind grabbing the smaller Teflon pan? I need to make the filling," he asked.

Elizabeth rose from her seat and picked up the pan, she placed it delicately on the range, he nodded before turning his attention to the vegetables. He had yet to chop to make the fresh filling. "The village had a small main street, which was lined with beautiful store fronts. There was a bookshop at the end of the street, a doctor who always was sitting on his balcony listening to Porter and smoking a cigarette. Further down was a baker, he made both patisserie and boulangerie(4), many of the children would stand outside the window and drool as we watched him make his treats," Sebastian said with a note of laughter in his voice. Elizabeth looked very confused as he slipped the last of the egg crepe onto the plate and turned his attention to the vegetables. "What's funny?" she asked after a moment.

Sebastian hummed as he picked up a silver knife and turned his attention to the crab that needed shelling and vegetables. "If we were caught drooling for too long he would come out of the shop and chase us away with the broom," he said lightly, "He looked like a demon, with how red he was in the face." Elizabeth chuckled as Sebastian began to dice the peppers, "Onion?" asked Elizabeth. Sebastian's smooth movements with the knife and the click of it against the wooden board was comforting, "Sounds good, however I don't know where they are," Sebastian confessed. A light giggle filled his ears as the blonde danced to a cabinet and pulled out a large vidalia onion. He looked at the smooth skin of the skin of the large golden onion. He peeled back the skin and breathed in the sweet smell, "Did you ever taste the man's treats?" she asked after a moment.

Sebastian nodded as he began to dice the onion as well, "Yes," he replied, his heart hurt. He couldn't tell her that it was after being viciously raped by the man who was supposed to protect him, a servant of god. He slowly placed the knife on the board and looked at the now diced peppers, onions and tomato, he didn't even remember dicing all of it. In truth he couldn't remember, it was normal for him to do when he was cooking and not concentrating on what he was doing. Lizzy was distracting him, with questions and memories he would rather not respond to. A smile graced his lips in an attempt to keep the pain from showing on it. He picked up the crab and ran his fingers over the shell, he would have to steam it to get it to pop open.

He looked for a pot and began filling it with water, "Place those in the microwave so they stay warm," he directed. She nodded and he could feel her eyes on his back, now he had to concentrate, once the water was up to temperature he would shell the crabs, finish the fresh salsa, heat them in the pan and fill the crepes with it. There was silence as he slipped the crab into the water and waited for the shell to finally crack. "Where's the coffee?" asked a gruff voice from the doorway, Sebastian stiffened when he immediately recognized it. Elizabeth grinned and he listened to her chirp her usual greeting, clearly this was something she enjoyed doing. "What's he making?" asked Ciel informally, this was perhaps the most uncouth the young man had ever sounded.

He slowly looked over his shoulder to see Ciel's mussed hair, sapphire eyes that were cloudy from sleep, and muscular chest. He was leaning in the doorway lazily and yawned, "Egg Crepes!" she replied with a child like grin. Obviously Sebastian had struck a chord with her, yet Ciel's face remained the same, impassive look. The pậtissier wasn't sure if it was because he had just woken up or was genuinely uninterested in what he was cooking. The slate haired young man padded into the kitchen and slowly set up the coffee maker, "Sounds good," muttered Ciel. Sebastian lifted the silver lid off the pot and pulled the crab, it was finally cracked, now he could continue his work.

His fingers worked on their own as the smell of spices he coveted filled the air, the dish was vibrant, warm and oddly comforting. He was using spices he usually avoided, in reality he was a pậtissier all he worried about was sugar, chocolates, creams and fruits. Working in the realm of flare, vegetables and meats was out of his realm of expertise. As he added each element the golden eyed chef came to mind again, that powerful chest he had been clutched against, his beautiful black hair with a violet luster, piercing eyes and gentle hands. He shook his head as he slowly spooned the bright red mixture of crab, fresh salsa, basil, paprika and cayenne pepper on the thin golden sheets.

Sapphire and emerald eyes were locked on him as he pulled the sheets and folded the crab inside, they were still warm and soft. Once he had managed to fold them he placed the two plates before Ciel and Elizabeth. "I hope you like it," replied the pậtissier as he turned to leave, he couldn't handle being in the same space as the man who had taken advantage of him and harmed him. He backed away and began to head back toward the door which lead to the servants area. "Stay," Ciel commanded, "Lizzy seems to like you and I would love for you to tell us more about your childhood." A current of fear ran through the pậtissier as he looked at them, "It's not that interesting," he said smoothly.

Ciel peaked a brow in confusion, "A moment ago it was," he commented. The pậtissier's jaw clenched, of course the wealthy young master was all too interested in the life he had lead to this point. "It isn't really," he lied as he slowly began to clean the remnants of his work from the wooden cutting board. Ciel huffed with irritation, clearly this wasn't sufficient enough for him, he desired a different answer. "Ciel, I was wondering if we could see your father later, I would love to help with the event," Lizzy said with a hint of excitement. Even Sebastian knew full well what she was referring to. After all, by now it must have spread through the culinary circles like crazy. He was about to take on the famous pậtissier Ash Landers, even if he was a traitor to Ciel he was still one of the finest in the field. The question came to be whether or not he could survive the competition.

"My father is probably handing the task to Tanaka, he is the trusted butler after all," he sneered. Once again he sounded like the spoiled little master Sebastian had pinned him as, "Ciel, I want to help, this is the most excitement we've had," she whined. The slate haired owner rubbed his left temple with his fingers as he sighed, "Oh alright, I'll make the arrangements," he grumbled. The girl practically launched herself off the stool and kissed him on the cheek, "Great! I'm going to get dressed," she announced before rapidly walking toward the entrance of the kitchen, "Oh and Sebastian?" she asked. The pậtissier lifted his head and looked at her, she seemed so giddy after he had given her breakfast. "The crepe was superb," she chirped before leaving. It wasn't until she had left that it occurred to him he was now standing in the room who had brutally violated him on the floor.

"About the other night," Ciel began slowly. The pậtissier's joints locked up as though he had been tied up, he felt a current of electricity run through him. His eyes closed, his heart was pounding and he began to feel nauseous. "It didn't happen, I was very drunk, it should have never happened," Ciel said after a moment. Sebastian slowly opened his eyes and noticed the sincerity in his words. Even if the young man was a pain in the ass to the pậtissier, he was a decent man. Yet the one word he wanted to hear, would never leave those lips, an apology. Sebastian sighed, "I understand," he replied meekly. He wanted to avoid another scene like that of a night ago. He didn't think he could handle something like that again. "Tell me, are you dumb?" asked Ciel after a moment. Sebastian looked up at the young man in confusion and blinked, "What?" he stammered. "You accepted Ash Landers challenged before everyone in my restaurant, did you really think I wouldn't notice?" he asked. The pậtissier was silent.

"So, tell me just how you plan on defeating Landers, you must have some clue because you accepted the challenge," hissed Ciel, there was malice in his voice. Sebastian should have known this was coming, after all he hadn't consulted his employer like he should have before accepting. "I-I wasn't thinking," he stammered. Sapphire eyes grew even more dangerous as he attempted to figure out what to say, Nash seemed thrilled about having Sebastian's dish, constantly stating it was far better than the one Ash had crafted. "No you weren't and now I have my father breathing down my neck," Ciel snapped, "I don't have time to deal with him and Lizzy." The way he had even said Elizabeth's name hurt him, he saw her as more of a burden than something to cherish. The young man before him cared about status more than his fiancée. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't let him do such a thing on the floor," Sebastian said sheepishly. His heart was pounding and he felt as though the walls of the room were moving toward him.

"You thought? Listen, I pay you to cook, not to think. If I wanted that, I would ask Agni to do so," he snapped, his face was slowly turning red with irritation. Sebastian clenched his fists, even now he was an object, something to be bought and sold, never treasured. "I'm a person, I'm entitled to my own thoughts," Sebastian muttered. Ciel had clearly heard him and was even angrier, "You are, just not when it pertains to my restaurant," he stated. Sebastian was about to bite back when his eyes fell on a glass bottle of olive oil, his skin began to crawl, he was still fighting the infection from when Ciel had used it as lube. Sebastian turned to run, he couldn't stand being further ridiculed, he was about to walk through the door which lead back to his area when Ciel said, "Sebastian." The raven haired chef paused and looked at the doorknob, his freedom was so close and yet if he opened the door he feared what would happen to him.

Ciel seemed like the kind of person that was likely to beat him senseless if he managed to irritate him enough. Red eyes glanced over his shoulder to see Ciel approach him with his hand in the air, ready to strike. The pậtissier closed his eyes and grit his teeth in preparation for the strike, he knew it would hurt. There wasn't a single reason for it not to. "Ciel! Could you help me with my dress?" called an all too shrill voice. Ciel sighed and strode off toward the bedroom.

Sebastian felt his knees go from under him, his hands flew out to grip the counter before he collapsed to the floor. It was only now that he realized he had actually been trembling. His hands were shaking like leaves in the wind, his eyes fell on them, "It's alright, he didn't strike me," he whispered. Sebastian closed his eyes as he slowly began to recompose himself, Angela and Francis would have struck him. His heart slowly began to slow, Lizzy had stopped Ciel from trapping him, he was honestly waiting for that blow. He knew the conversation about Landers wasn't over, it was far from over. For now he was safe, and that's what mattered the most. He was safe until Lizzy was gone and he was alone with Ciel.

~~xXx~~

Vincent stretched his arms over his head, Diedrich had managed to get BTN interested in his little challenge. With this contest Vincent would be able to alter the perception of Phuntom Toys, and _Ciel_. As well as draw Angela out, if he could draw her out of the shadows and into the light. He didn't appreciate when the demons of the underworld broke out of their cages and threatened to disrupt his peace. The morning was oddly quiet for him, Rachel was in her studio designing again. She had asked to be left alone for the morning, which left him to his own devises. In reality he should be in London overseeing the creation of a new line of toys.

"Tanaka, I need you to do something for me," he called into the quiet halls of the house. In moments the gray haired butler appeared, he had a pair of glasses resting on his nose and stood eloquently before Vincent. "Sir?" he asked curiously. Vincent grinned and looked at him, another person he considered his partner in crime. Tanaka was perhaps one of the most attentive servants he had ever hired. "I would like you to search for a number of different ingredients used in pastries and have them typed, after doing so put them in a stack and hand them off to myself," he said with ease. The man looked slightly puzzled, as always Tanaka wasn't going to question verbally, his facial expression had given him away though. "It's for the competition," he responded flatly with the wave of his hand, as though it were a simple fact.

Tanaka nodded and smiled, "I see, I will take care of it," he replied before turning to leave. Vincent looked up and noticed a grin on the gentleman's lips, "Tanaka, tell me something," he said after a moment as he reached for his tea cup, "Did you send Sebastian to Ciel?" he asked slowly. There was a pause as Vincent's brown eyes bore into the man, the graying butler turned and grinned, "I don't know what you mean," he said smoothly. Vincent was quiet and remembered the unexpected arrival of William T. Spears, he didn't think Spears would be the one to assist. He knew that the Sommelier would avoid politics and anything to do with it. Yet he readily approached them, "He said he didn't have Sebastian's resume until a mysterious fax arrived with the Phantomhive Logo on it," he remarked.

Tanaka hummed and replied, "I did, and if you must know I knew who he was before giving him the card," replied the elderly Stewart. Vincent grinned with delight, clearly the one who had set this all up was none other than his own man. "Tell me, why?" he asked. Tanaka was quite, clearly he was composing his reply in his head, "Sir, do you believe in second chances at happiness?" he asked. Vincent looked confused at first, the very nature of the question didn't make sense to him. Tanaka was always one to follow orders without hesitation.

"Why would he need another chance?" asked Vincent in confusion, it didn't make sense, surely he had been abused but he should have had another in Paris. "Because he was denied his first one," Tanaka replied. Clearly he knew more than he was saying, it irritated him how his butler knew more on this than he did. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked carefully. Tanaka wasn't one to keep secrets from Vincent, yet this time he was. It must have been important in order for the elderly butler to do so. "Ask your German friend, he'll know by today," he replied before leaving the room.

Vincent stared at his desk, the missing piece had to do with Sebastian, it wasn't until the pậtissier arrived everything started falling apart. "What have you done, Sebastian?" he asked the photo of the small child on his desk. After a few hours of digging through old French records he had managed to dig up a childhood photo of Sebastian. He honestly was beautiful, he understood why Claude desired him, he would be a fool not to. The phone rang violently, "Phantomhive," he answered curtly as he picked up the handset.

"Vincent, this is Ray, listen I'm very interested in your proposition," said the familiar voice of the owner of BTN. His voice was full of enthusiasm, "It will be quite the show, two famous pậtissiers duking it out on camera with surprise ingredients. I was thinking though, I know several well known pậtissier who have been dying to taste your new chef's treats," he commented. Vincent's eyes widened, real chefs, people who knew desserts better than anyone as judges. He was quiet as he listened to the man, "Who?" asked Vincent curiously. He could tell Ray was grinning from ear to ear, "The three largest names Hugo Garrett, Neil Harmon and finally James Perrot," he replied. Vincent's jaw dropped, those three were the best, they wrote the books on the craft. Hugo was known for his technique, Neil for his unquestionable unique combinations and James was the master of skill, beauty and perfection. Without a question they were the ideal judges, "Did you ask them?" he inquired.

A laugh emanated from the other end, "Ask them? They called me and asked if they could, clearly Sebastian has quite the reputation in the French circles as the golden boy," replied Ray. Sebastian was in several papers and Vincent had learned through his digging that the young man was one that even the masters envied. "I see, and Ash?" he asked cautiously, it wasn't a secret that the man was a traitor. "Easy, they want to see who really has the skill, apparently the incident in the restaurant spread through the twitter sphere like wildfire. Now every gourmet and pậtissier is looking to see who will come out on top," replied Ray. Vincent paused, this was growing and fast, Twitter meant that the world had seen it, it was no longer London's competition. "Ray, what do you mean?" asked Vincent. The man on the other end laughed again, "Log in, Vincent, they're messaging you like crazy," he stated.

Vincent put Ray on speaker as he logged in, Ciel had him create the account not too long ago, his eyes widened, people were choosing sides and mailing him. "What?" he asked in confusion as he scrolled through the messages, his customers from all over the world were asking to see who won, he knew his clientele was enormous but this was larger than he anticipated. "Apparently Armont was dinning and had dessert, after seeing the challenged he tweeted every gourmet he knew," Ray explained as Vincent browsed the messages. "There are New Yorkers on here," he whispered. He knew they were from Claude's after all Claude was one of the best of the CIA. He suddenly felt out of his depth, this was beyond the response he was expecting. "I'm getting calls here left and right asking for commented," he stated, "Especially after the judges announced who was on the panel."

Vincent swept his hand through his hair, "This is going to be huge," he stated in shock. Ray hummed in agreement, "We are hiring a composer for the themes and several tracks, well actually he hunted us down, apparently Sebastian's treats extend past the gourmets," commented Ray. He was having pros come in and craft the studio, the music, everything was being done simply because Sebastian had taken the challenge. "Ray, is this going international?" he asked slowly.

"Yes."

Vincent stared at the screen and then at his products, he was going to launch Sebastian onto the world stage, and all because in the Twitter Sphere Sebastian was being seen as a young hero taking on a dragon. "Who is doing the score?" asked Vincent after a moment. He needed to know just how many ears this had reached, "Hooper, Nathan Hooper," he responded. Things were getting interesting. Hooper was going to bring every cinema fan to the room, and he was about to have the world watch as his chef battled for superiority. "Don't worry, we will do interviews once it's all shot," he stated. This was going to be one hell of a spectacle, "When?" he asked slowly.

"We would like to start in a week," replied Ray. Vincent felt his heart soar, he was about to see his chef take on another, "We will be shooting a trailer for the two and then the competition, you'll see," he responded, "I have to call Ciel but once that is done we can start." Vincent nodded, this was perhaps the boldest thing he had ever done. He corrected himself and shook his head, no the boldest thing he had done was start his dance with Angela Blanc, Ash's sister.

~~xXx~~

Diedrich was sitting outside a cafe sipping a large black coffee, the yard had given him the name of one of her subordinates who was an undercover agent for them. Now all he had to do was get the file, the young man was supposed to drop a newspaper with a yellow folder in it. He looked around for the signal, he was supposed to be wearing a fedora and silver scarf. Vincent's power scared many, after all it wasn't something most wanted to be on the receiving end of, himself included. Out of the crowded street he noticed the black hat and glistening silver scarf coming toward him, the man didn't even look up as he dropped the paper at Diedrich's feet. He paused and muttered, "Oh shit, sorry man," as he leaned over to pick it up. Diedrich leaned down to assist only for the man to hold a flash drive out to him, "Prints are dangerous," he muttered, "it's easier on an app." Once the pages were put back together the young man walked away, leaving Diedrich with the flash.

"I remember the days when it was only paper," he commented as he picked up the cup and walked the opposite direction. His satchel was over his shoulder as he went looking for another cafe to look at the data. Once he had managed to slip into another one he pulled out the device and opened the lid. His eyes fell on the silver flash drive, in moments he had it plugged in and the laptop was reading it. "Let's see," he muttered as he opened one of the documents. He stared in shock at it and whispered, "What?"

**Translations: **

**(1) **_Crêpe d' Œuf avec du crabe_.: Egg Crepes with Crab

**(2)** _C'est magnifique. Je t'aime crepe: That's magnificent. I love crepe. _

**(3)**_ Tu parles au fancais_?: You speak French?

**(4)** _boulangerie_: In France, there are two types of bakery, a pastry bakery and bread baker. A Boulangerie is a Bread Bakery.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: Nightshade **

Diedrich couldn't look away from the display, a chill ran up his spine as he looked at the photos before him. "W-What is this?" he whispered in shock as he slowly scrolled through images, crimson blood stained white sheets, messy raven black hair was knotted, there was dried blood in the hairline and he stared at the all too thin young man. Nearly dead crimson eyes gazed out of the frame, they were glassy and seemed to have lost all will to fight. "Sebastian?" he asked in confusion as he looked at the images of a familiar woman with a crop in hand. "How old are these?" he whispered as he swiftly called up the data for each of them. His stomach twisted and he clasped a hand over his mouth. The date, he was working under Ciel when this had happened, it was right under their nose and he didn't see it.

A wave of guilt crashed into him, that was why he had seen a doctor, he wasn't free, Sebastian was far from it. Sebastian was a slave to the woman who he considered a demon. Vincent had done many things in the past, dark, dangerous and honestly sins. Yet, he had never done anything like this, he would never stoop as low as to treat a human being like a piece of meat. His hands were trembling slightly as he closed the photos, they were previews, given to men when they were looking at merchandise, as Angela called them. He sighed as he closed the images, he was about to put away his laptop when he noticed a file labeled, "Open Immediately."

Part of Diedrich didn't want to know what was in it, however, he had a sinking feeling that if his contact had gone through the trouble of labeling it, it was something Vincent had to know. He quickly double clicked it and stared at the title of the document, "Dept Purchase Agreement," he mused in confusion. He wasn't aware that Sebastian's debt had come up for sale, and Sebastian hadn't alluded to it. He scrolled down as he read through the pages, whoever had been the layer for the buyer was extremely good, he couldn't find a single loop hole. He paused as he found the end of the document, signed in familiar black pen was a signature he knew as well as Vincent's. All he could see was red, "Fuck," he hissed as he put his laptop to sleep and abruptly stood up. This wasn't something he could tell Vincent over the phone, he had to do so in person.

He rushed out of the cafe and took to the street, his mind was buzzing, the last signature he ever expected to see was at the bottom of the page. "I'm going to kill him," Diedrich seethed as he slipped one of his hands into his dark brown hair. Clearly his contact had done more than he anticipated as he searched for information on Sebastian. As he went things simply seemed to be getting worse. Ciel wasn't the type to release individuals, he knew that better than most. Vincent had always watched his investments but also protected them. Ciel on the other hand didn't care as long as he could profit. "How could he do this? He doesn't have access to those funds unless he touched the safe," he grumbled. In the middle of the street he froze, that was what had happened, how the money from the safe vanished, why Sebastian was acting odd and smelt of antiseptic, even Ciel's strangling grip on the chef made sense. "Why didn't I see this?" he asked himself.

~~xXx~~

London was abuzz, apparently the gauntlet's clatter to the floor had been heard across the pond and the isle as well. Gourmets were flocking into London, booking hotels and tuning in to see just what was going to happen between the two. Vincent didn't even have to do a great deal of advertising. In a weeks time a kitchen was crafted, logos drawn and printed, even the ingredients had been selected. Tanaka had the idea of using a knife box, rather than the bowl, that way they had to make fewer cards. Naturally, the person who placed the box would know the list of ingredients, but everyone else wouldn't. War had been declared and no one was going to miss it, reputable.

French schools were chatting about Sebastian's training and were determined to prove that it is impossible for an English trained chef to defeat one with classical training. Gourmets from New York were arriving to see what the ingenuitive Sebastian Michaelis was going to craft. Ash's few followers were making a racket and calling in all of the banished Patissiers to rally under the man. It was a nightmare as people seemed to set up hotel rooms, tables, and even channel access. Vincent in the meantime was meeting with several young men and women working for the BTN. At first he thought it was low budget until he got into the kitchen, his eyes widened. He thought Ciel's was an Eden, theirs was even better. Chocolate brown eyes darted over the surfaces of the kitchen, the Phuntom Logo hung side by side with that of Ciel, and Ash's new restaurant. Kenmore and a number of other brands battled to get their appliances noted.

The kitchen was covered in glistening stainless steel, the white walls were bright yet didn't stand a chance with the Phantom Logo, as always the beautiful blue script with coat of arms stood out from the stark walls. His eyes glided over the hanging pots, impressive ovens, the walk-ins, gas ranges, islands, cutting boards of all sizes, it was honestly heaven. "Wow," he whispered. There was a smooth chuckle which man Vincent turn around abruptly, "I'm glad to see you like our work," commented a young man, he had wild red hair that jutted out in every direction, purple eyes and a bit too much eyeliner. Tattooed on one of his arms was a skeletal representation and the man grinned, "I'm Joker, the director, I figured I should call up some friends and get them to slap together a kitchen," he stated gleefully. Vincent could tell the young man in bright gold and red was certainly the host. "It's impressive," he remarked as he looked over the room.

"Not as impressive as the score," called another voice, oddly despite the owners proximity it was far too loud. Vincent turned to see a young woman with headphones around her neck, "Hey, I just got it, and I must say he's done it again!" she chimed as she purred with delight. Vincent was curious as to what this ordeal would sound like. He could hear pieces, but it didn't sound like a typical show's music, it sounded radically different. "May I?" he asked curiously. The woman pouted and looked at Joker, "He is?" she asked harshly. Her headphones were in her hands, clearly she wasn't going to let go easily, she looked more like a dragon hoarding gold in Vincent's opinion. "Beast, be nice. Vincent is the Producer, honestly he gets to say if it stays," Joker stated.

Beast sighed as she slipped the headphones over her head, her wild black hair surrounded her and she sighed as she held them out to him. "It was composed by Hooper, he wanted to have a little fun," she stated. Vincent slipped the massive cans over his head and experienced an explosion of sound. His eyes widened as he listened to the very Irish sounding drums, the sound of a violin soaring, and the playfulness of the melody. He closed his eyes and smiled, he honestly felt as though he were in the highlands. It transformed into something more violent with the smash of a drum and he felt his body tingle. It was as though someone had sparked a fire. The sound of chefs preparing for what they saw as battle. He heard a click and realized he was going to listen to another piece, the soft snare made him tingle as the strings grew in tension, he felt as though he were going to be sent flying. "My god," he said as he listened to the call of horns and rapid drawing of bows, even the feather light flutes and harp made him desire to fly. The excitement was evident, "Who is this for?" he asked curiously as he slowly moved one of the cans. "Simple, Sebastian. Nick said he was the only one who could have that theme," Beast replied.

He looked at her and smiled, "How?" he asked curiously. Beast shrugged, his eyes went down her tight black corset, he honestly contemplated getting Rachel one. "Easy, he tasted one of his treats," she replied. Vincent was amused how the man had managed to craft a piece to reflect Sebastian by simply tasting the man's work. It was unheard of. "Do you think he can really win?" Beast asked after a moment. Vincent paused, there was a hint of concern in her voice, her dark brown eyes were locked on him.

Vincent sighed as he began to wonder just how much of a battle this was going to be, with all the action and sudden interest in cuisine again he wondered if he had kindled something he wouldn't be able to put out. After much discussion, all of the details were put in place. From the logos and soundtracks, to the plates and chef's jackets. "Yes, he has to," he replied. Joker looked confused for a moment, "For himself and Faustus," he stated. This cause the pair to freeze and stare at him, clearly they believed he would want Sebastian to win for him. Of course he wanted his chef to win, but not for Ciel. For Sebastian, to finally break through the walls and grasp a well earned second chance.

Tanaka entered with a polished wooden knife block, eight glistening stainless steel knives were sticking out of it. His gut wrenched as he realized that each blade had a different ingredient on them, "We have three blocks, each with eight different knives, making twenty-four mystery ingredients," Tanaka stated. Vincent pulled one of the knives and admired the lettering, "I'm impressed, where did you get the idea?" he asked slowly as he slipped it back into the block. Tanaka grinned, "Apparently a few American producers allowed us to borrow it, as long as we added one more judge to the panel," he stated.

The pair would do three tasks in which they were to pull a knife from the block. Since Ash was the challenger Sebastian got the first draw, winner of the round was to draw the next knife, it was simple. "I like it," he commented as he slipped the blade back into the block. Tanaka nodded, this was going to be quite the show and he could only hope that this would snuff Ash out for good. "This is hot, honestly I love it," gushed Beast as she pulled a knife and looked at it. Joker simply nodded and turned to Vincent, "Why do you want to drive Ash out?" he asked. A smirk curled the slate haired CEO's lips and he hummed, "Let's just say its one way to get at another person," he replied before turning on his heel, now all he wanted to know was how Diedrich made out. He had sent the German to gather information, he wasn't sure how fast he could work but he honestly hoped he would know in a few hours, he needed to make his next move.

~~xXx~~

The room was quiet, soft silk plum sheets were wrapped around an exhausted Head Chef. His black hair was a mess as always, he had gone to sleep after his long stroll in the rain through the streets of London. He had spent the night searching for just what he felt for the Patissier, he wanted to help Sebastian, but didn't want to scare him. Once again the other side of the bed was empty, it seemed to be a natural occurrence these days, he wasn't able to bed Alois anymore without feeling as though he had somehow betrayed Sebastian. He went to roll over onto the supposedly empty side of the bed to find something soft on the other side.

He groaned in confusion as he felt silky long fur touch his bare arms, it must have been the ridiculous pillow Alois had bought as an apology for tearing his own apart in order to gather feathers to tar and feather a certain Sommelier. He couldn't seem to understand that none of his pillows had feathers in them, as an apology he had purchased him a fuchsia furry pillow. Which, Claude always seemed to forget to dispose of. He grumbled as he pushed it away and rolled back over, even in private he wouldn't be caught cuddling with the thing. He snuggled into his regular pillows and hummed with content until he felt something odd, a fuzzy thing had just batted him in the head.

Claude groaned and hissed, "Alois, it's too fucking early for this shit, get out." The blonde had no sense of personal space, he would cling to just about anyone or thing. The chef was about to drift once more into a peaceful sleep when this time he felt something sharp prick his scalp as he was struck again in the head. "Okay, I'm up, will you quit it," he growled as he opened his eyes and blindly reached for his glasses. In the meantime something small, soft and warm had hopped onto his bare chest, it almost felt comforting, almost. His long slender fingers found the thick black frames with ease, he had two pairs, one for work and the other for the house. In moments he had slipped them on only to realize the object wasn't an object but the kitten with crimson eyes from the night before.

"What?" he asked in confusion as he looked at the seeming harmless creature, now staring at him with large curious eyes. "You? When did I?" he muttered as he rubbed his temples with one hand. The night before came back to him, his wandering and finding the small cat among garbage outside of Lorenzo's Pizza. He looked at the small creature, clearly he wasn't thinking the night before, because he honestly had no clue how to take care of a cat. He had always owned spiders, cats were fickel. They had a tendency of climbing on everything, regardless of purpose or value. Golden eyes locked onto the black ball of fur and he hummed, "Why is it that even when sober I do things like this?" After a moment of attempting to figure out what to do with it, he realized he would have to find someone who actually liked cats to help him.

"When ever he is even remotely involved and don't think," he grumbled as he slipped out of bed and began to walk out of his bedroom in a pair of blue loungers. "What to feed you," he mused as he pushed open the door and walked into the kitchen, he knew what his spiders ate and what people did but for the life of him he didn't know what to feed it. "I really should have paid more attention to the cat lady who lived across from me before," he commented as he opened a cabinet. The small animal had managed to pad through the hallway and jump onto the island in the middle of the kitchen, it sat up straight and watched as Claude rummaged through his cabinets.

"I know they can have tuna, but I don't have that stuff canned, I usually buy fresh," he commented as he slowly opened the fridge, resting on a shelf was a pair chicken sausage links. He paused and looked at the cat, Alois' tall order was weeks ago but oddly he ended up buying more for the blonde, he seemed infatuated with them whenever he stumbled into his apartment intoxicated. "Well, I guess these will have to work," Claude commented as he pulled them from the fridge as well as a carrot and what was left of the green beans from his dinner a few nights ago. He placed them all on the counter and began to cook them, "I really hope you don't need milk, that could be an issue," he commented. The pan sizzled as he added a touch of olive oil to it and proceeded to cooking the remaining sausages.

After a few moments of pushing the links around and ensuring they didn't stick to the pan. He removed them and placed them on the cutting board, he would have to cut them into small piece for it. "Now then what else," he mused as he pulled out a large sharp knife and cubed the sausages into small pieces. He hummed as he placed them on the plate, the room erupted with the scent of sausages, carrots, and green beans. Once he had finished cooking he placed the food in a bowl and popped it in the fridge to cool. The cat meowed again and he Claude leaned on the island, "Hey, you didn't order after my prep time, so you have to wait," he remarked before slowly touching the small animal's head. There was a knock on the door and he prayed that it wasn't Alois, he sighed as he walked over to open the door, "Alois, honestly why do you get so smashed?" he asked with irritation as he opened the door. He was surprised to see someone else in his hallway, the last person he ever thought would be standing there.

Dressed in a long black coat with a broad brimmed fedora in his hands, he was cleanly shaved, his eyes were behind a pair of glasses that rested on his nose. His hair had grayed and yet he looked the same. As always he was standing in the proper attire of a Phantomhive Butler, complete with pin and pocket watch. "I'm afraid he isn't here," replied Tanaka. Claude stared at the man, he only appeared when something was in play. "Tanaka?" asked Claude slowly. The man nodded and looked past Claude, "Come in," he invited after a moment as he stepped aside. The butler bowed slightly as he walked past Claude. He watched as the man enter cautiously, "You've done well for yourself Claude, I see your investments have paid off," he said smoothly. His eyes drifted around the flat, as though they were taking in every detail.

"For the most part, tea?" asked Claude curiously as he walked back into his kitchen. Tanaka smiled warmly and replied, "It would be welcome," he paused after a moment. His eyes were locked on the island where the cat sat. He slowly approached the feline, he was brimming with curiosity, "I thought you were a man for spiders," he commented. Claude filled the kettle and hummed as he debated as to which tea to serve. "I am, he was in the rain alone and looked lost," he replied. He couldn't simply say it reminded him of the Patissier, that was insane. "I see," he mused. There was something off, Tanaka wasn't the type to make social visits. As long as he could remember Tanaka was the only one who defeated Vincent in chess. He slowly slipped off one of his pristine white gloves and tucked it into his pocket. After a moment he was slowly pleating his fingers through the cat's long fur. "What beautiful eyes," he commented with a small smile. Claude froze, he wore a grin that indicated he knew far more than he was saying.

"Like mulled merlot in a glass, warm, vibrant and spirited," he commented as his hand ran from the top of the sleek animal's head to the very tip of its tale. "Does he have a name?" asked Tanaka curiously as he continued to watch the feline with a great deal of interest. Claude placed his kettle on the counter as he opened the glass French press. He had always been fond of strong tea. "Nightshade," he replied after a moment as he measure the appropriate amount of tea from the silver canister. "A poison? He seems rather sweet," commented Tanaka as he scratched under the small animal's chin. Claude placed two cups on the table and sighed, "The plat bears small black berries and beautiful dark purple bell like flowers, with green veins," he stated.

"A man outside a monastery began to grow them, he thought that the flower was divinely beautiful and decided to decorate the garden with it," Claude stated as he pushed the plunger down to force the leaves into the bottom of the glass press. The tea was a dark amber liquid, the scent of the powerful Earl Gray filled the room as he lifted it up and poured it into a glass tea cup. "It wasn't until a child ingested one of the berries that he learned of it's insidious nature," he stated as he placed the cup before Tanaka, his golden eyes never left the amber liquid. "The innocent child died shortly after ingesting one of the berries. The priest then realized it wasn't a flower that god created, but that of a vengeful demon," Claude stated. Demon, it had been a word that described Claude his entire life, the one word that no matter what someone called him. "Nightshade is also called the Devil's Cherries," he commented before slowly looking up at Tanaka.

The butler slipped his fingers around the glass cup and hummed, "Poison, something so beautiful that even a child couldn't resist reaching out and claiming it for himself," Claude whispered as he poured himself his own cup. There was silence as he waited to learn why Tanaka had even appeared that morning. "You are right, Nightshade is a poison, however it can also help us heal," Tanaka remarked slowly. Claude's head shot up and he glared at the butler, his golden eyes were filled with irritation, he didn't want to hear of this now. "How can a poison help us heal?" he hissed. Tanaka chuckled as he took another sip of the warm liquid.

"You see it isn't used to harm in medical practices, in fact it is used the numb the pain and allows you to breath. For an asthmatic a small dose can mean the difference between walking up a flight of stairs, and falling to the ground," he stated as his fingers swept over the handle, "It can numb the pain after a fall and soothe a broken heart which doesn't beat properly," he continued. Claude froze, the poison that was supposed to be the end of him, Tanaka now said could save him. "All cures are poisons in the wrong dose, you just need the right amount to soothe an aching heart, numb the pain in our sprained joints and lift the weight off our chests," he stated after a moment and slowly pulled his hand away from the tea cup.

"Nightshade is a cat," Claude said defensively. Tanaka smiled knowingly and hummed, "Ah, yes he is," he remarked as he scratched the fluffy animal behind the ears. "One which bears a remarkable resemblance to a certain Patissier," he remarked. Claude froze, Tanaka had seen Sebastian once, he didn't think the man would remember him. "What aren't you saying?" asked Claude slowly. Tanaka sat up straight again and pursed his lips, "I need a loan, close to eight hundred thousand pounds," Tanaka said slowly. Claude's eyes widened, Vincent was powerful and wealthy was an understatement, the man could buy a large mountain if he wanted and would still have money left over. "Can't you just ask Vincent?" asked Claude curiously.

Tanaka shook his head, "No, not for this, I want to make an investment and I was hoping you could be my silent partner I need someone who has experience with money and managing," he stated. Claude's golden eyes widened as he pushed his glasses further up his nose, "What?" he asked quickly. Vincent made a great deal of money and Tanaka was the highest paid in the house. "Why?" he asked after a moment. The butler smiled and replied, "Simple, I want to start a business, something small and personal, something very near my heart." Claude sighed, he didn't want to get in trouble with Vincent, that was asking for trouble, he knew what men like him did with those who crossed him. "Where?" he asked after a moment. A smile curved Tanaka's lips, it was soft and warm, "Let me worry about that," he said with ease. Claude didn't like this idea, Tanaka wasn't betraying anything, in fact he was making everything far more mysterious. "I don't know about this," he said slowly, "What if it falls through?"

Tanaka shook his head and chuckled a little, "I doubt that will happen, believe me, in fact I know it will be the greatest investment you've ever made," he stated with ease. Slender white fingers swept through Claude's black hair, the sun shined through the windows bringing out the vivid sheen of purple in his hair. "Alright, give me two days, I'll give it to you in a check," he stated. Tanaka smiled and held out his hand, "I promise you, the return will be even higher than you ever expect it to be." There was a pause, perhaps Tanaka had sought to retire, "Does Vincent know?" he asked slowly. The butler paused and looked at him, "No, not yet, he will soon," he stated. Claude nodded as he picked up his cup of tea again. There was silence for a moment, it was as though the room was taking a breath.

"You know he would look beautiful with a red collar, one with a golden tag," commented Tanaka as he stroked the cat again. Claude nodded absentmindedly, "The competition is starting soon, it's going to be one hell of a spectacle," he stated. The Head Chef was confused for a moment, he knew Vincent was involved but wondered just how extravagant things were going to get. "Spectacle?" asked Claude slowly, his eyebrows lifted in confusion as he looked at Tanaka. The butler chuckled and pulled out his tablet, "Here, you'll see," he stated. Claude scrolled through article after article, it was as though it were the World Cup and it was an England versus Germany match. High stakes and everyone was just itching to see what they could do, both culinary and average alike. "Just what is Vincent getting at?" he asked in confusion. Tanaka shook his head, "This isn't Vincent or Ash, this is an explosion of Social Media, like it or not Sebastian is perhaps one of the most famous chefs in the world and he doesn't even know it," mused the butler.

~~xXx~~

The room was flooded with cigarette smoke and the familiar sound of men chatting, sitting behind her desk was an all too amused Angela, "Perhaps I shouldn't have sold you so soon. If I knew you were going to be so profitable," she commented as she scrolled down the page. She paused when she looked at the familiar photo of Ash, "It seems you have challenged him once again, arrogant prat. At least your timing this time is better," she commented as she looked at her desk. She had a shipment coming soon and Vincent's loyal dog was starting to become a problem. "Just what are you going to do Vincent? Save your position or the Patissier?" she asked as she chuckled. There was a knock on the door which roused her from her thoughts, "Enter," she called with irritation. A trio of men walked in, two in traditional black suits and another standing in an elegant waistcoat. "Found the bloody bastard, it took us weeks. Why are we looking for this man anyway?" asked one of the guards as he shoved the third man into a chair, his clothing was pristine, but she could tell he was treated rather harshly. "I need him, Vincent is in the way and the only way to get to him is to damage _Ciel,_" she replied. Her lavender eyes locked on the sitting man.

A pair of gray soulless eyes stared at her from across the desk, his hair that had once been brown had long since grayed and his skin wrinkled. "Tell me, what do you know of a Sebastian Michaelis, Father Francis?" she asked as she grinned. A spark ignited in his eyes and she knew she had just the thing to kill the pair.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25: The Knife Block**

There was a murmur through London, it was infectious and had finally reached the ears of a very nervous Sebastian. Live seats had been sold, people were randomly wishing him luck and he felt his stomach churn nervously. Ash was clearly bragging about his skill, even if Sebastian was classically trained. Ever since the incident with Ciel, the pair were becoming distant, both for the fear that Ciel would do something to him before the competition. He wanted to escape, but didn't know how, as far as he knew he belonged to Ciel, he had little to no power over his life. It wouldn't have been so frightening if he actually had control over it. It had gotten to the point that Sebastian seemed to flow with the tides, his life was always controlled by another, he longed to be free. "If I can win this, perhaps I can cut myself free," he muttered as he looked at the group of people.

Ciel's father had given him directions to get to the kitchen, every part of him was alive with both anxiety and excitement. He slowly walked over to the studio and stared at the massive glass doors leading to the BTN studio. The floors were perfectly clean and he could tell this was perhaps one of the biggest events since Doctor Who and the unveiling of Harry Potter. He slowly walked through the foyer and noticed the eyes that seemed to follow him, as though he were a valiant knight marching to battle. With his bag in hand and knowledge he could survive this, at least he hoped.

Standing outside the door was a young woman with wild black hair and large cans around her neck. She was accompanied by a young man with spiky red hair and another with long blond hair tied behind his head. The three looked at one another and then to Sebastian, "Are you really the Patissier?" Joker asked wide eyed, he looked shocked more than anything. He slowly stood before them, as always he was seen as another lost boy. "Yes," replied Sebastian softly. The three exchanged looks of bewilderment before turning to him. "Welcome, Mister Michaelis, this is Beast she is our makeup supervisor. This is Hooper, he's done the score and I'm Joker, the director," he said with a warm smile. Sebastian looked at each of them and nodded. He honestly wanted to get this over with, "Okay we are going to do a light make up, you're skin is beautiful, we just don't wan the lights to kill you. Hooper here is going to play your theme," commented Beast as she twirled a powder brush between her fingers. Sebastian looked at the man named Hooper, he had brown hair that seemed to be a mess with a pair of nearly black eyes. His nose was rather crooked and looked as though it had been broken more than once. A scarf was draped over his neck and his hands were in the pockets of his jeans.

"I'm Hooper, the Composer and Conductor, we managed to snag the LSO. I'm heading to the mixing booth, we will be going live soon and I want to make sure everything is perfect," he said with ease, his foggy english accent hit all the right notes and made Sebastian slightly nervous. "Will I have to speak?" he asked. He wrung his hands as he thought about how odd he would sound on the telly. There was a pause as Joker looked at him curiously, "Probably," he replied. Sebastian hummed and slipped one of his long bangs behind his ear, he had no idea how he was going to do this, "Don't worry they all know you have a French background," Joker replied, "No one is expecting a foggy accent." Sebastian nodded, he was still tense and wondered just how he was going to make it through this.

Beast smiled and nodded, "Shall we?" she asked as she gestured for him to follow. Sebastian did so and realized just how large the studio was, a beautiful black and red emblem hung on the wall, "Top Chef?" he asked as he read the sign. Beast nodded as she lead him into one of the rooms, "Yes, that's what we are calling it," she said happily as she opened the door. Sebastian was about to enter when he noticed a familiar man dressed in pure white with white hair and violet eyes. "Easy on the liner," sneered the familiar voice of none other than Ash Landers, the very chef who had thrown down the gauntlet. "Well, look what the cat dragged in, a little late to be applying make up now," he commented with irritation.

Sebastian froze and looked at the chef, he honestly felt nervous around Landers, "I got a little lost," he replied uneasily, his french accent became a little more pronounced. Landers chuckled, "Ever so the cute Frenchmen," he mused. Sebastian felt his temper begin to bubble, "At least I don't look like I've never stepped out into the sun," Sebastian countered. In all honesty he had no idea where this was coming from but he would run with it, offhandedly he wondered if he had been hanging around Claude a little too long. Ash huffed and crossed his arms, "I see, says the man who is just as pale, pot calling the kettle a little black," he remarked. Sebastian was about to shoot another remark when Beast stepped in. "Okay boys, let's end this pissing contest," she commented as she settled Sebastian in a chair. "I'm going to just add a little concealer and bronzer since the lights are violent," she stated as she opened her powder box.

Sebastian hummed, he had never had someone attend to his skin, usually he was busy treating wounds, not carrying about the fact that he was lilly white. He was about to ask her something when the door opened, standing in the threshold was a very excited looking Hooper with a CD in hand. "Okay I'm going to give you a taste of just what you guys will sound like," he commented as he slipped the disk into the CD player. "Ash you're theme is first," he stated as he pressed play. Obviously this was to prevent himself and Ash from ripping one another to shreds before the show commenced. The room was filled with horns and trumpets, it sounded like a rather jolly march, a classic which rang through the streets as a display of prosperity and nationalism. Yet at the same time it was cold and distant, as though it were a dynasty coming to an end. Landers was smiling with approval as the march echoed through the room, part of Sebastian prayed that his theme wouldn't sound anything like that. The girl who had been working on Landers finished applying blush to the chef, "I approve," he said smoothly as he left the room.

There was a pause as Hooper turned his attention to Sebastian, "I figured an arrogant march would suit him, your's is farm more," the composer paused and gave a thoughtful smile, "creative." Sebastian tilted his head to the side, the composer seemed to enjoy the theme he had composed for Sebastian more than Ash. The room was filled with a soft and beautiful sound, it was soothing and enchanting on it's own. A soft chime played in the background as violins swelled and the bass played pizzicato, it was smooth and elegant. A distant horn blew and Sebastian felt as though he were floating, it wasn't arrogant or long, it was sweet and nostalgic. "This is mine?" he asked slowly as he listened to the melody float in the air. Hooper nodded and hummed, "It's all yours," he replied with a grin. Sebastian hummed, it reminded him of the sweetness of his work, "I like it," he replied softly.

Beast chuckled as she ran a comb through his hair, "I'm glad, now the theme for the show, Ash left before he could hear it," Hooper stated as he turned his attention to the deck, "However I think you need to hear it," he stated. Sebastian was confused as to why this was so important, he was about to ask when the sound of snares tapping filled the room, it was soft. He could feel the energy build as the violins jumped in, they swelled with gusto as the massive drums entered alongside them. His heart was pounding, it felt as though they were flying through London, the horns blared calling for attention as the music sped up. It was a world of sound and beauty, in all honesty it reminded him of the Harry Potter scores, not that he was opposed to that. "This is simply amazing," he breathed as he opened his eyes and looked at the man before him. He honestly didn't think a kitchen could sound like this, then again Hooper's world of sound was radically different when compared to that of any other. "I have to go soon, Beast remember his coat is black and Ash is wearing white," he stated before turning on his heel. He was about to leave when he looked over his shoulder, "You know, a lot of us are praying you win, it would be nice to get rid of Landers," he commented before leaving.

Sebastian stood up and slipped into the jacket, he was about to face one of the best chefs on international TV and at that second all he could think about was where the cavalry was. Then again he should have known that by accepting the challenge he would have to do this on his own. "It looks like the cavalry won't be coming over the next hill," he commented as he looked at his reflection, he wasn't sure what to say, so he simply smiled a little before leaving the walls of the dressing room, soon enough he was going to be put on the spot.

~~xXx~~

The halls were crowded with a number of people, all of them running to and fro, in preparation for the airing of one of the most heated competitions in cooking to be seen. Standing in the middle of the hallway was a very confused blond, a crinkled rectangular sheet of paper was in his hands and he turned it several times. His cerulean eyes were locked on it as he pursed his lips. In his other hand was Claude's mobile, "Why did the Head Chef have to forget his blasted phone? That wanker," he hissed as he looked at the poorly drawn map. The ink had begun to run thanks to the accident he had that morning, he had dumped a cup of water on it, crinkled it to shove it into his pocket and nearly ripped it in half when it had been snagged in a door. The paper was slowly starting to fall apart and Alois looked at it in confusion.

"Okay, so it should be down here," he commented, "Just go through the hallway. Well that's simple enough," he commented. Alois looked up from the page and froze, his jaw dropped as he looked at the intersections, there were a total of five passages to choose from, not counting the one he had just come out of. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a massive stature of a microphone with the ambigram BNT. Alois paled as he watched people push and shove past one another in an attempt to get to their destinations, "Fuck," he whimpered. He looked at the map again quickly and then at the hallways, the arrow had smudged and tinted the page blue in that spot. "I'm so screwed," he whispered as he turned around and looked at the total of six hallways. Alois reached into his pocket and was about to call Claude when he realized that he was holding the man's mobile.

"Shit," he squeaked as he looked at the people in suits, he was still in a bartender's uniform. This was honestly his worst nightmare, he was so very lost. He quickly grabbed a man's arm and asked, "Can you tell me how to get to Studio 2?" The tall man looked at him, he had blond hair and a pair of blue eyes, he looked very confused. "_Was_? (1)" asked the stern man, Alois was confused for a moment. "I'm looking for Studio 2, do you know where it is?" he asked again. The man held up his hands defensively and commented with a rather apologetic look, "_Ich spreche kein Englisch (2)_," he replied. Alois looked confused for a moment as the tall man turned to walk away, "Hey! You didn't tell me where Studio 2 was!" he shouted as he jumped after the towering German. The German turned the corner and was gone, only now did Alois realize he was very lost now, not even the poorly drawn map Soma had given him would be able to help. He stood on a balcony and looked around in confusion, "Oh shit, he's gonna kill me," he muttered as he looked around.

The blond bartender jammed the map back into his pocket and sighed, he had heard time and time again to stay put if he had gotten lost, however he was in desperate need of the loo. He looked around for a moment and shrugged, "Well I'm in the same building how bad can it be?" he asked himself as he set off on a mission to find the loo. He continued down the halls as he looked for the familiar signs of a restroom, this was going to take far longer than he anticipated. Not a single one of the doors looked remotely similar to the one he was searching for.

His shoes clicked against the floor as he continued to slowly open doors and peak into them, his curiosity had always gotten the better of him. Several of the rooms were empty offices, some looked as though they hadn't been cleaned in the last century, which was a little frightening when he heard a strange noise emanate from one of them. "Do people not know how to clean?" he asked as he continued down the hallway and opened the door to a room that looked very similar to a conference room. "I wonder what their meeting rooms look like," he mused as he pushed the door open. The familiar sound of a woman panting filled the air as well as the creak of wood. Alois hummed in confusion and opened the door a little wider to see a busty secretary bent over the large table. Her glasses had slipped off her nose as she gripped the edges of the table for stability. Her lips were open and her eyes closed as she moaned, brown hair fell from her bun as she tipped her head back.

The man's massive hands groped her chest as he slammed into her and Alois started, "Um... could one of you tell me where Studio 2 is?" he asked curiously. The pair froze and both blanched, clearly this wasn't his greatest idea. "What the fuck! You little wanker! GET OUT!" roared the man as he cheeks reddened with both embarrassment and anger. Alois sighed and shook his head, "You guys can screw each other all you want for all I care, I just want to get directions," he stated. There was a pause as he watched the woman gather her clothes, "You know you should really use a rubber, no glove, no love," he chimed. Before he could say anymore a shoe was heaved in his direction. Alois ducked as it whizzed over his head, "I'll take that as a no," he stated as he closed the door and went in search of someone else to ask. He clasped his hands behind his back and continued on his quest, "She had horrible cuticles anyway," he commented as he turned the corner.

Standing in the hallway was a very familiar sight, a slate haired young man, "Trancy, where have you been?" he snapped, as always Ciel was being difficult. Alois sighed and held up his hands, "I got lost," he admitted, "And then I came across a fuck session, I decided they needed tips." Ciel was quiet as he looked at his bartender as though he were insane. "YOU WHAT?" he hollered, his voice reverberated off the walls, making the scene seem far more intense than it should have. "I came across a superior screwing his subordinate without a condom so I suggested that he used one," he replied. Ciel stared at the blond as though his head were on backward. Alois shrugged as he walked past the young Phantomhive, "Her cuticles were a nightmare, but I didn't bother with tips for those," he stated as he made his way into the Studio to find Claude. Leaning against a wall was the mysterious Head Chef, his golden eyes were locked on the logo on the wall. "Claude!" Alois chirped as he hugged the man violently. "Yes?" he asked slowly as he looked at the blond squeezing him, "I brought your phone." Claude simply plucked the device from Alois' fingers and slipped it in his pocket, for once he hadn't ranted about the bartender being too clingy. Something was very wrong, he looked pale and nervous, "Claude?" asked Alois slowly as he tugged on the chef's sleeve. "You're nervous aren't you? He's about to battle Ash and he has no one there to aid him," Alois said slowly.

Claude nodded as he looked at the glistening silver kitchen before him, his golden eyes were locked on the doors which the chefs were to enter through. "He has my back in the kitchen and yet out here, he is defenseless," he murmured, his voice was soft and Alois could tell that internally Claude was in turmoil. The iron chef wasn't as strong as he appeared, "He can do it, he has to," whispered Alois. Golden eyes looked down at him through rimless glasses and Alois noticed an emotion that he had never seen in the chef's eyes, worry. "He's not steel, he will break," he whispered. Alois slowly touched the side of Claude's face and traced the faint worry lines that were slowly beginning to caress his features, "No and that's what makes him strong, he has you, even if he doesn't realize it," he commented. He could tell Claude was still apprehensive of the idea and part of him didn't blame the chef.

"Still, there's something that haunts him, I've never seen him look so haunted before until that day in the rain," Claude stated after a moment. There was silence between the pair, even Claude had noticed the look, fear whenever a man got near him. Part of Alois wondered how deep that fear went, he knew Sebastian had been hurt in the past but didn't know how badly. How deep the scars ran and the pain he had to endure for him to look like that, for a human being to look like a terrified animal when touched. For once he had no idea what to say and that was even more terrifying. "He can do this, if he can handle you, he can take care of Ash," Alois said after a moment. It was only now that he wished he had the same way with words as the Sommelier.

~~xXx~~

Diedrich grumbled as he paced back and forth before the elaborate office of Vincent Phantomhive, the toymaker's obsession with elegance didn't go missed by the German as he paced. What he had learned disturbed him, to think that Vincent's own son had been part of a black market dealing and owned Sebastian was irritating. The boy Vincent and himself had groomed to be a stand up citizen had actually supported the slave market. Something so vile that not even Vincent allowed in London, he paused to look at his watch, Vincent was late, he never ran late. He remembered calling the man's secretary and stating it was urgent, she had promised to relay the message and yet the Lord was nowhere in sight. "Where are you?" he hissed as he angrily thrusted his hands into his pockets.

"He won't be coming," called a familiar and rather tired sounding voice, it was cool and collected. Diedrich spun to see Tanaka standing before him in the customary Phantomhive butler's uniform. His eyes were honed on the German noble as he took a step closer. "Tanaka?" asked Diedrich in confusion. The elderly butler stood before him firmly, years of training and experience seemed to appear in the action of standing at attention. In many ways he was like a pawn on a board bracing himself for the will of his master. "I'm afraid I can't allow Vincent to know of his son's deeds, it would tear him apart," he replied.

"Explain," hissed Diedrich, his anger was seething as he attempted to process what the butler had just told him. No servant would dare to keep information from their master, no matter how painful. "Rachel hasn't been well, in fact she is far more delicate than before. She went to a biopsy today, there is a chance," Tanaka fell silent as Vincent's eyes widened. Rachel was his life, he knew how the woman had gotten the Lord through some of the darkest times of his existence. "The results," he asked cautiously, attempting to hide his shock. Rachel's condition was going to throw them all through a loop again. "We won't know until Thursday, day two of the competition," replied the butler. Diedrich threaded his fingers through his hair and tugged at it, "What am I supposed to do? Ciel has trapped Sebastian, he's hurting him. The chef wouldn't look so haunted if the boy hadn't done something to him," Diedrich whimpered.

He had to choose between hurting Vincent with the truth or allowing this event to be overlooked. "I have worked something out, but I need your trust that I will get Sebastian out of this safely and when the time comes, your aid," Tanaka stated. Diedrich was confused for a moment, the butler had made a move of his own and was planning on playing his hand without Vincent knowing. "What do you plan on doing?" asked Diedrich slowly, he was brimming with curiosity. Tanaka hummed and shook his head, "You will know in time, I'm nearly finished setting it up," he stated.

Diedrich found himself in the same position, if Rachel had indeed developed another case of cancer it would kill her and Vincent would lose one of the few things in his life that he valued over his own. Yet, if he didn't tell Vincent about Ciel the Lord would find out later and he would lose a friend. "What do I do?" he asked slowly as the butler turned to leave. Tanaka paused and looked at the lord, "Simple, what you have been. Protect them both," he stated before walking away.

~~xXx~~

Sebastian drew a deep breath as he hoisted his black bag over his shoulder, his entire body was shaking, never in his life had he been put on the spot like this. He had done demonstrations at the college, but was never expected to speak about them, silence was his mantra as he worked, concentrating on creating a dish rather than explaining. Ash looked like the type that would enjoy the attention from the camera, he was smiling brightly and looked ready to chat away. The wild haired red head appeared before them with a head set around his neck and clipboard in hand, "Okay before we go on set, some rules. Don't sabotage each other's work, no cursing we'll be on international TV, act as though the cameras aren't there and most importantly explain the dish as well as it's inspiration. In addition you are allowed to use any technique you know to craft your dessert," Joker stated, his eyes fell on Sebastian whose stomach was in knots. "Questions?" he asked as he lifted his eyebrows. Ash shook his head and smiled as he slipped on his massive chef's hat, Sebastian reverted to his Torque. "No," Sebastian replied hesitantly. Joker smiled as he turned to his stage assistant, "Doll, on my cue have them walk through," he stated.

The young woman nodded and grinned, Sebastian watched as he bright orange bangs bobbed, she had several flowers in her hair and looked like a woman out of the fae kingdom. Joker disappeared leaving Ash and Sebastian standing side by side, "Scared, Michaelis?" asked Ash with a snarl, clearly he had ignored the rule about antagonizing the other competitor. "You wish," he replied as he waited for Doll to begin her count. "Ten," she stated as she looked at her stop watch. "I'm going to make you wish you never entered the industry," sneered Ash. Sebastian tuned him out as he listened for her count, "Five," Doll stated. "No I'm going to show you what a real patisser looks like," he stated as Doll called three. Ash wrinkled his nose and hissed, "I'd love to see that."

"Two," Doll called as she looked at the pair. Sebastian smirked, he had to do this, even if he was terrified, "Then watch closely," Sebastian commented with a note of sincerity. Before Ash could respond Doll motioned for them to enter. The pair stepped through the glass doors and into the kitchen that any patissier would dream of. Every surface gleamed and camera men had been strategically placed throughout the space. Standing before them was a panel of six judges, all well known in the industry, it was only now that Sebastian realized just how real this was going to be. A slate haired young man walked into the studio and smiled, it was the same man from the restaurant and he looked very much like Ciel in this light, it wasn't until now that he realized they had the same hair color. "Welcome to Top Chef, you two have been read the rules and now we will go about how things will proceed," Vincent said happily. He gestured to a silver table with a beautiful pine knife box on it, several knives were in it and Sebastian had a very bad feeling about this.

"One of you will select a knife from the box, on it is the name of the mystery ingredient you will be working with, you have a half hour to complete your task," Vincent stated with an air of authority. He slowly glanced at Ash's face, even though he looked composed, he thought for a brief moment he had seen the chef's eyes widened a little. "Since Mr. Landers is the challenger it has been decided that Mr. Michaelis pulls the first knife," he stated, "Whoever wins this challenge will get the opportunity to draw the next one." Sebastian's burgundy eyes were locked on the box, he was to draw the knife, it was terrifying at first, he had no idea just what was in the box. "Mr. Michaelis if you please," said Vincent smoothly.

Sebastian slowly took a step toward the box, the hilts of the blades glistened under the hot studio lights. He looked at the set of knives, eight handles for him to select from, his fingers swept over the smooth pine the box was made of, the logo on the side contrasted the light wood. He could feel the gaze of each judge and Ash on his back, he continued to look at the block and was about to back away when he looked up to see Claude smiling confidently. He gave a firm nod and oddly that was all it took. Sebastian's fingers wrapped around the cool, click hilt as he slipped it out of the block. The blade glistened in the light as his eyes fell on the ingredient, it felt as though he had just managed to pull Excalibur from the stone as he held it up to examine it. After doing so he flipped the blade in his hand to show what the blocky bold letters on the blade proclaimed the ingredient to be. He smiled confidently as he watched Ash's face twist in a look of pure terror, the one ingredient he knew he could work to his advantage.


	26. Chapter 26

_I would love to thank all of you for reading, it's come to my attention that a number of you are thrilled with this piece. I'm honored that all of you enjoy it. I know many of you are sebciel, I must warn you this isn't sebciel. I've decided to go Claude/Sebastian. Sorry guys, it's just unfolding that way. Second I love all of you, you guys have made this so much fun. I hope you enjoy._

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**Chapter 26: Knife 1:** **Hues of Color**

Claude's heart was pounding as he watched Sebastian approach the box, he looked so collected but he knew better, inside the patissier was just as worried if not more so than he was. Sebastian froze and looked at the box, clearly the patissier was panicking. Everything was adding up to this and he was now being expected to really bring it. Sebastian looked up nervously and spotted Claude, he had to give the chef confidence, just as Sebastian had that night. He smiled firmly and nodded, it was now or never and oddly he had a feeling Sebastian could do it; all he had to do was draw the knife. Sebastian's fingers wrapped around the blade as he pulled it from the block, the silver blade glistened as the chef held it in his hands, a smile of confidence spread across the Patissier's lips. It was as though Sebastian had switched gears, his eyes glimmered mischievously as he looked at the blade. Claude's curiosity was brewing and he honestly couldn't wait to see it. Sebastian flipped the knife with ease, written in bright purple letters was the very ingredient which devastated Landers the last time he had bothered to compete, "Lavender," called Vincent.

Ash's confidence fell like a rock to the bottom of the ocean, he looked utterly confused and scared, this was going to be interesting. Sebastian looked like a cat who ate the canary as he held the blade in his hands. "You have an hour to produce a desert using the ingredient lavender," stated Vincent firmly. Sebastian placed the blade in the waiting hands of one of the judges and turned to the kitchen in a jog he claimed a space and opened his bag, he knew just what to make. Something that would be as mind numbing as he hoped, his eyes glided over all of the appliances until he spotted just the thing he needed, an all too familiar silver canister. "Oh this will be fun," he muttered as he dashed to grab a silver canister labeled Lavender in script. Ignoring the white haired Patissier who was glaring daggers at him, Sebastian proceeded to grab a bowl and everything he needed; he was going to do something that not many would attempt in such a short period. Then again he was going to cheat, in moments he had grabbed a carton of heavy cream, a carton of half and half, a container of sugar, one of salt, a dark chocolate bar, and a vanilla bean.

In a flash he was back at his bench as he pulled a mixer and decided it was time to make the base. It had been years since he had received the unusual request of crafting a frozen treat. He could remember it as clear as day; a young chef from Japan had come to France to teach his art to other cuisine students. It was nearly midnight and Sebastian was busy preparing for his midterm when he received an odd call from one of his professors, he had been asked to craft a special dessert to entice the speaker to return. The only condition was that it had to be frozen, this had puzzled the chef until he had dug up an interesting recipe for ice cream, he wasn't as skilled as most, however he was passable. At the time he had decided to do Rose Ice Cream, it was fragrant and seemed to haunt his memory, he honestly wondered how much of a stretch it would be to transform the original to the elaborate and exotic lavender. The Japanese chef was more than thrilled to enjoy the frozen treat and sang praises, even though Sebastian wasn't satisfied.

The first attempt wasn't quite there, the texture was far too coarse and it was a little too sweet for him. This time he was going to make it smoother, creamer and not as sweet, which seemed like and uphill battle until he remembered the one ingredient that any chef had access to, dark chocolate. The red Kitchen-aid mixer sat on the counter, glistening in the light and ready for his commands. In the past he would have been irritated about being filmed, however this time he realized it was far easier to ignore the cameras and work like he always did, in his own world. "Pot," he mumbled as he looked over at the rack and plucked one from it's hook. In the corner of his eye he could see Ash toying away with what looked like cake batter.

His fingers wrapped around the handle as he dashed across the floor to the range, a camera trailed behind as one of the camera men continued on his movements. With a glass liquid measure he measured both the half and half and heavy cream. After pouring them into the pot he flicked a match to light the brilliant blue flame of the burner, that evening he dared to make the treat, he nearly failed, only to win himself the chance to meet the chef. Now he was going to do it all again, he slowly placed the pot on the element and slipped a spoon into the snow white mixture. White sugar fell into the pot like snow as he added a pinch of salt. His burgundy eyes narrowed as he watched for the tell tale sign of the pot coming to a simmer, he could hear a whisper on the other side of the room wondering just what he was up to. Naturally he was daring enough to attempt this, he honestly wondered what they would think when the saw his work. The pot reached temperature so he turned it down in response, the thin long vanilla bean was fragrant as he picked it up with his fingers and placed it on an all too sterile plastic cutting board.

With a silver blade he slit the bean down the center in a swift stroke, watching it slowly open to reveal the nearly black paste he desired. The smell of vanilla exploded in the room as he smiled to himself and gathered a generous amount. The paste, which now covered the edge of the knife, was scraped onto the side of the pot, transforming the once sterile white concoction into a light ivory. Once this was finished he turned his attention to the canister, out of the corner of his eye he could see Ash waiting on the cake in the oven, this didn't irritate him a bit. In fact it made him confident. Lavender was difficult to work with because in small doses it could be a subtle accent but too much and it became so powerful it would knock the dinner over. The scent of lavender wafted through the air as Sebastian opened his own canister, with a silver cup he was measuring out just the right number of the dried purple buds and sprinkling them into the pot. "What the hell is he making?" whispered one of the cameraman, Sebastian had honestly forgotten about them, it was amazing how they seemed to turn into something as trivial as furniture when he worked. A coy smile curved his lips as he wondered what it would look like as he added the finishing touches to his treat.

"Now for the fun part," he stated after giving the concoction a final stir and removing it from the heat, the cream had turned a soft purple, the same hue he had desired. He sprinted across the kitchen to the desired silver tanks and grinned, he pulled a pair of thick insulated gloves on as well as grabbing what looked like two massive bowls nestled inside one another. He was going to honestly go out for fun; beside the two massive tanks was a box of dry ice. He grabbed the larger box and carried it over to his bench. Now he was well aware of the cameras, he had gathered two other camera men as he opened the box and used a pair of silver tongs and gloves to pull a chunk of the white substance that was now emanating mist. There was a murmur of awe as Sebastian placed this on the outside ring and then the pot inside the bowl in the middle. He watched critically as the bowl was chilled before his eyes. The second hand on his watch ticked away as he waited for just the right moment to pull it, he wanted to ensure it was chilled, not frozen. After a minute he pulled the pot and placed it on a plastic cutting board and placed the ice back in the box. Dry ice was always nasty to work with since it could burn the individual worse than any fire ever could. Once chilled, he pulled a long sock like strainer and bowl of the mixer, the thick and rather chunky substance with buds and all was dumped into the strainer. Cascades of lavender cream fell from the tip, landing into the bowl of the mixer elegantly; he held the strainer proudly in the air as he made sure not a drop of the base went the waste. The chocolate bar was waiting on the chopping block for him as he tore through the wrapper and began to break it with a massive knife. The crack of chocolate against the knife filled his ears, as he felt the knife strain under the force he was channeling through it to break the bar. He had selected a dark chocolate to counteract the sweetness of the lavender and sugar to make it just a little bitter, but not over power the lavender.

He looked at the mixer and smirked, he had a pretty good idea that no one had any idea what he was up to. Chuckling softly he turned the mixer on low and looked at the blade as it moved, part of him wondered why he had decided on this treat, when he had never actually tried it himself. It was one of the few things he couldn't seem to do, he had always been denied luxury and yet was more than happy to make it for others. After setting the mixer to low he put the thick gloves back on and walked back to the tanks. "LN2," he said with a glint of merriment in his eye, "Liquid Nitrogen." He picked up the smaller of the two tanks and placed it on his workbench. Once that was ready he picked up the cutting board and began to add the chocolate he had broken into the silver bowl. He hummed as he delicately scraped the pieces into it, it was as if he had sliced up all of the bitterness of his life and thrown it into the bowl. The lavender that would have served as the catalyst for sleep seemed like poison, denial of the sleep he would never have, a peaceful and uneventful life. The chef's hands stilled as he looked at the camera before him, he began to wonder if there was a single moment in his life when he hadn't been evaluated by another person, held ruthlessly under the gaze of another, praying for his misfortune.

Sebastian blinked several times before turning his attention to the liquid nitrogen, he slowly picked it up and opened the container, mist from the liquid flooded his work space. The parody of a potions master preparing one of his precious potions came to mind as Sebastian worked meticulously to complete it, he smiled after a moment, only to right the container and place it back on the bench. Resting inside the bowl was beautifully crafted lavender colored ice cream with chunks of chocolate. With a silver ice cream scoop and white bowls at his side he began to plate the ice cream. There was silence, stillness as he finished his dish, it wasn't a pastry, it was something more.

Sebastian picked up the bowls and slowly placed them on the table with his name over it, the tablecloth was a traditional white with all the silverware required to enjoy it. Somewhere in the background a timer sounded, calling his attention. His fingers left the white bowl, he simply stood there looking at the six dishes, each of them pated perfectly. A soft lavender hue was on display and he could remember the dash to craft it. Ash was standing at the other table, with a beautiful lavender cake sliced and ready. It wasn't until now that Sebastian realized he didn't bake, he felt a little nervous as he thought about it.

There was silence as he waited for the judges, Ash was up first since Sebastian had drawn the knife. His eyes glided to the plate, resting on top of it was a slice of a lavender Bundt cake, it was a bright purple and the texture looked off. Clearly Ash fought with it and the watched as the judges tasted it, "Have you cooked with lavender before?" asked a familiar voice, one of France's finest was sitting at the table and Sebastian felt butterflies flutter in his stomach. "Yes," replied Ash nervously, he was ringing his hands behind his back. "I see, it's too strong and you didn't sift the buds out, making it very uncomfortable to eat," commented the Frenchmen as he placed his fork on the plate. Ash stood there silently, his smile was still on his lips but his eyes told all, he looked irritated. One of the English chefs hummed and looked at Ash, "How you can mess up a Bunt cake this easily is beyond me, the texture is wrong, the lavender flavor is overpowering and the presentation is a disappointment. Simply slicing a cake and placing it on a plate isn't being a chef," he commented as he looked Ash.

Sebastian could tell the man was squirming internally; he looked as though he were about to dash from view and scream. "This is a train wreck," stated the American representative firmly. Sebastian froze, if they were like this with Ash, he didn't want to see what they would do to his. His hands started to shake and he swallowed harshly, thankfully the cameras were turned in Ash's direction. He could allow his composure to slip briefly. He was well aware he would have to put it back up but first needed to get things in check. Sitting on his table was a beautiful display of a frozen treat that like many of his other works held part of himself. Dark chocolate was the bitterness of his life, the lavender the denial of dreams and a moment of peace. Sebastian was lost for a moment, he didn't even realize the judges were sitting at the table until he had come to the realization that there was a camera in his face. He could feel their gaze on him and he drew a deep breath, "This is my dish, Dark Chocolate Lavender Ice Cream," he replied as he looked at the chefs.

He watched intently as each of them picked up a silver spoon and slowly slipped it into the dish, there was silence as they tentatively lifted it to their lips. He could feel the gaze of Ash on his face, if the chef started any longer Sebastian was sure the man would melt his face with his heated glare. His burgundy eyes didn't leave the chefs as he waited for the verdict. "Mister Michaelis, where did you learn cuisine?" asked one of the chefs curiously. Suddenly all of them were looking at the raven haired chef who stood rigidly before them. Sebastian was hesitant before replying, "Le Cordon Bleu," his accent was laced through it causing the French chefs to smile. "I see, this is wonderful, but how did you freeze it so quickly?" asked one of the chefs curiously as he looked at Sebastian. Obviously the question of who had made it came into view, Sebastian tried not to be offended, he knew better than anyone that Ice Cream was difficult to make. "LN2," he replied with a smirk.

"You are telling me you used Liquid Nitrogen?" asked an English chef in amusement, he looked confused and yet intrigued, obviously the technique wasn't as popular as Sebastian had thought. Sebastian's shoulders loosened a little as he nodded. "Impressive, that's not a common technique here, or in Europe. Daring too. The chocolate is a wonderful touch and I love the lavender," commented Englishman with blond hair and hazel eyes, his voice was filled with happiness as he commented. "Your texture, _c'est magnifique_," commented the tallest of the chefs, his angular nose made him hold an air of authority and Sebastian recognized the man instantly. "The pairing of flavor and layers is beyond what most can think of, I'm glad you selected to start us off with this. Ice cream is difficult to make without a churn, how did you do it so smoothly?" he asked slowly as he slipped his spoon into the bowl and looked at the smooth cream. "Mixer, I used a mixer," Sebastian said smoothly as though it were fact. "Brilliant," replied the Englishman with long black hair and brilliant emerald eyes, "Resourceful aren't you?" he asked.

Sebastian hummed and shrugged, "A chef who can't do this isn't worth his salt," he replied, causing a chuckle from those at the table. This earned another death glare from Ash, he ignored and continued to watch the chef's enjoy his work. "We will discuss this and then state who has won," stated the quietest of the group, his voice was stern and lacked any emotion, it was actually unnerving. Sebastian nodded and disappeared to the back room where he found a familiar golden eyed head chef standing there with a small dish of ice cream.

A spoon was between his lips and he purred. Sebastian was quiet as he watched Claude's long pink tongue caress the contour of the back of the spoon, moving with ease sending a shiver of desire up Sebastian's spine. Burgundy eyes wandered over the chef as he looked at the tight black v-neck long sleeve tee with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, displaying his muscular arms, they were white and looked as though they had never seen the sun. The shirt hugged him like a second skin and showed every inch of his perfectly sculpted chest. He had thrown on a pair of skinny blue jeans with a few holes in them, they hugged the contours of his thighs and showed a bulge that he honestly wanted to feel. A pair of boat shoes were on his feet as he leaned against the counter with his legs crossed and eyes gazing at the ice cream. He flipped the spoon over and licked the inside sending another shiver through the Patissier, Sebastian had never felt something like that. Most men scared him and yet time and time again he wanted to be near Claude.

The chef placed the dish off to the side and hummed with content, "Stunning, I just wish there was more," he muttered as he looked at the now empty bowl. Sebastian noticed the look in his eyes, it was almost lustful, which made Sebastian feel even more anxious. Claude had said he wouldn't pray on him and yet Sebastian found himself desiring the man, especially out of the chef's coat. "You could always lick the bowl," Sebastian commented. Claude jumped a little, he had been so engrossed he didn't even notice. Claude's eyes glittered with mischief as he looked at Sebastian, "I suppose," he replied as he slipped his finger around the rim and held it to his lips. His tongue slipped up the side and curled around it, slowly catching every drop of the light purple cream. Sebastian felt heat rise in his cheeks, he couldn't take his eyes off the display as Claude slipped his finger between his lips and slowly pulled it out. "Devine," he commented as he looked at his hand.

"How?" Sebastian blurted out before he could stop himself. Claude turned his attention to the chef and froze. He was clearly looking for the right words, "Flavor, texture, color and overall experience," he replied. Sebastian slowly took a seat in one of the chairs and nodded, he wanted to hear from Claude what he was thinking, it was as though he were asking Claude to evaluate his soul. "To be honest, it's difficult to describe, I know they wanted pastry but this transcends perfection, the chocolate is even distributed, the color is rich but not overpowering, the lavender stands well on its own and it's not too sweet," he elaborated. Sebastian relaxed as he listened to Claude's silky smooth voice, it was gentle and he loved the way he said each word. It was as though his tongue caressed them, tending to them to ensure that they were as firm and sensual as he intended. "The bitter chocolate makes the lavender sing, in reality I can't think of another way to say it," he stated as he crossed his arms and tilted his head.

He eyed the chef curiously and Sebastian could tell Claude was wondering how nervous he was. "I'm fine," he stated as an answer to the silent inquiry. Claude's eyebrows quirked up as he looked at him skeptically, "You're face is red, am I upsetting you?" Claude asked slowly. Sebastian honestly felt like screaming at Claude and chastising him for his sinful display before, but couldn't seem to get his voice to work. "No," he replied, "it's warm in here." Claude looked even more confused, clearly that was a poor excuse but he seemed to let it drop. The golden eyed chef smiled as he looked at Sebastian, "Your dish was brilliant, they seem to be taking a bit evaluating it though," he commented as he shifted slightly and slipped his hand through his hair. Sebastian nodded and hummed, "I think it's because for once I didn't bake," he remarked with a hint of humor.

After a moment Sebastian pursed his lips, he recognized Hugo Garrett off the bat, the man was a technical god. There were very few techniques he hadn't used and perfected. His large nose and black hair were two qualities which made him stand out, the tall and slender chef was intimidating to stand before. Neil Harmon was the blond with rather amazing eyes, known as one of the most artistic and bold with flavors in the field. His motto was 'don't know unless you try,' literally; he was very experimental and seemed to always have something unique in mind. James Porrot was an interesting man, originally from Belgium; he quickly rose to the top with his ability to make even the most difficult techniques look effortless. He had opened a Patisserie in London not long before Sebastian had arrived. "There were some big names there, including Jacquies Renoir, Stephaney Settler and finally one Andrew Scott," commented Sebastian after a moment. He knew them all, mentors, masters and legends who had lectured in the halls he was in as a student. He was being evaluated by the men and women who wrote his text books. They set the tone and he was supposed to conform and yet he was blowing people out of the water.

"Sebastian," Claude said slowly, "You can do this." Sebastian didn't even realize the man had moved from his spot against the counter. He paused and looked up to see him standing before him, confident golden eyes looking down at him filled with encouragement. The patissier looked at him with wide eyes, "How can you be so sure?" he asked hesitantly. Claude was about to reply when Doll entered the room, "Okay, it's time for the first round to be judged," she said with confidence. He slowly rose from his perch and walked into the room, his footsteps echoed as he walked through, Ash was standing at the doors and whispered darkly, "Don't think you've won this over a silly flower," his word were like venom. The doors opened to reveal the panel of judges. He slowly entered the room and looked at them, each of them was wearing their best poker face, he had no idea what was going to happen, he could only hope for the best. "Welcome to the High Table, Patissier Michaelis and Patissier Landers," said Porrot. He sounded confident and at ease.

Sebastian stared at them and waited to hear it, he knew there was an issue with it, there had to be. Nothing in his life was as simple as ice cream, "Tonight we had a taste of your skills and to quite honest they were brilliant and not so at the same time. Michaelis, have you used liquid nitrogen before?" asked Porrot. Sebastian watched Hugo perk up as well as Scott and Settler, they were the three technical chefs at the table, each with a claim to fame. "No, I froze it in the freezer before," he replied honestly. A grin unfolded on Hugo's face making Sebastian shake a little, the chef wasn't known for smiling and part of him wondered if he had fallen into an unspoken foot fall. "You did exceptionally," Hugo stated with a grin, "Far better than even I can do." Sebastian froze; his eyes which were locked on the floor were now on the chef who was known as a god in the kitchen. He was the first to use LN2, and had perfected the technique.

"Flavor, you had just the right amount of sweetness and bitterness," commented Renoir, "So beautifully that in reality I could have never been able to do so. The lavender sang and the chocolate seemed to carry it. It was as though the lavender was to soothe the soul but the bitterness of the chocolate kept us from falling too deep into peace." This was where Hugo shook his head and looked at Sebastian, his eyes bore into the chef. It was honestly frightening to watch, "No you gave us a taste of your soul and I thank you," stated the chef. There was silence in the room, Hugo was sincere, he meant each word and he nodded. This wasn't the first time Sebastian had been accused of allowing an individual to taste his soul. To serve it on a plate and have others judge it, yet it wasn't until now that he realized he had.

"Tonight you amazed us with your daring use of chemicals and flavors, you Sebastian, are the winner of this challenge," stated Scott lightly. She was grinning broadly as she looked at him. Sebastian was silent, he knew he could win the challenge and yet part of him wondered if he had the strength. Now as he was told of his victory did he realize what had occurred, "Thank you, chef," he said sternly as he nodded. Professional to the end, after all he worked for the Phantomhives. There was a pause as he looked at her; he could feel the transition as they moved from compliments to now faults. "Landers, your dish, was a disaster. The texture was wrong, it was far too heavy, the lavender was too powerful and the buds were undercooked," stated Hugo harshly. His voice was sharper than any knife he had ever encountered, "In short the worst excuse for a cake I have ever encountered," Hugo stated. Ash stiffened as he took each word, Sebastian tuned the rest out as he attempted to process what he had just witnessed.

After they were done broiling Landers they sent the pair back, Sebastian felt as though he would finally have a chance to wash his hands of his misery, perhaps for a single night he would be able to sleep. He smiled as he slowly walked out of the studio and picked up his bag, his coat was hung on it's peg and he looked over the room he had been given. "Tomorrow, we will fight again," he whispered as he clicked the light off and left the room. He was finally leaving, the bitterness of the chocolate coupled with the scent of lavender soothed him, it still clung to his jacket. He drew a deep breath and whispered, "Perhaps I will finally rest." With that he turned on his heel and left, in hopes that what would lay ahead was a land of dreams, and nothing to dread.

~~xXx~~

Claude was silent as he waited for Sebastian, he wasn't about to allow the young man to walk home. He sighed as he looked out at the night, not a star was visible, it made him a little sad. He knew Nightshade would be waiting for him, but he couldn't let Sebastian go without knowing just how proud he was. He knew Sebastian would win, but he had no idea it would be quite so beautiful. Clearly there was more to the Patissier than he realized, he could still remember the roses that glistened in the light, in many ways he hoped Sebastian would make them once again. In many ways he felt as though time was slipping through his fingers, his phone buzzed violently and he groaned. He knew who it was, he just didn't want to deal with it, not now. He was in the mood to celebrate, it buzzed again spurring the Head Chef to answer. "Faustus," he hissed into the device that was riding his last nerve.

"I see you finally responded," drawled an all too familiar voice, "when are you coming home? Your Patissier should be fine without you." Claude slipped his glasses off his nose and held them between his fingers between pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "What do you want Lucius?" he asked angrily. He heard a gasp in the background, "Boy, never have I harmed you. You have no right to use my given name," he replied. Claude hummed, he knew better the sting of being hit in the head with his own frying pan returned. His hand instinctively touched the side of his head as though he had been struck once more. "I can't call you father, you wouldn't even look at me after I came out of the closet in High School. You shipped me off to a Boarding School upstate," he retorted. He could remember the harsh winters and sweltering summers. His charcoal sweater with house crest rested in his closet, along with tie and scarf. Those four years he was miserable, it wasn't until he had met Ash that life seemed to become sweeter. "How could I look at you? You the boy who was supposed to carry my line then tells me he is only interested in men," he stated, "such a disappointment. However, if you come to New York there is hope for us to overlook this." There was silence, of course his father was up to something, since the day he had come out his father had treated him as though he were some kind of vermin. He didn't even merit the title of son.

Claude could remember the day he had received an acceptance letter to a prestigious ivy league in upstate New York and a note from his secretary saying, "Well done and best of luck." His father hadn't even taken a moment to write out the note himself, or even tell him how proud he was of Claude. "There is a lovely woman named Josephine here, she's from a long line of rather powerful people and is very interested in you," said Lucious simply. Claude's eyes widened, in all his life he never imagined his own father setting him up. "What?" he asked. There was silence, he had no idea what he was going to do or say, as far as he was concerned his life was hell, "No, abosolutly not," he hissed. His father was silent and he could feel his anger beginning to seethe, once again he was a disease and an emberassment, "I won't, I can't love a woman, and you know that," he stated angrily. Long fingers slipped through his hair as he tugged at it in an attempt to soothe himself. Pain had always served as an adequate distraction for the chef. "I refuse," he stated and his father laughed. "You, don't have a choice," were the words that hurt more than a stake through the heart.

Claude stiffened, he didn't want to return to New York, he wanted to stay as far from the man as possible. "No," Claude shot as he grit his teeth, "My home is in London." With that, he hung up and shoved the irritating device in his pocket, now he remembered why he had abandoned it in the kitchen. He paused when he heard the door open, immediately he looked over to see a rather tied Sebastian standing before him, he looked as though he had a halo under the harsh outside light that was hanging over the door. His lips were a little red and moist, the looked more welcoming than ever. "Well done," he stated, causing the Patissier to jump. Naturally he didn't miss this, he simply chose to leave it be. "Congratulations," Claude said sweetly as he walked toward Sebastian and held out his hand. A handshake may have been cold and the opposite of what he desired but it was better than nothing. Sebastian eyed his hand cautiously, "I'm not going to hurt you," whispered Claude, "I can't."

There was silence between the pair, he could tell Sebastian was confused, his eyes were wide and filled with anxiety. "You can't?" asked Sebastian timidly. Claude nodded, he wasn't about to admit his feelings for the raven haired chef, he only feared Sebastian would run. "I can't," he reiterated. Sebastian relaxed slightly, "Why?" he asked softly. He sounded like a child, and Claude could tell he was tired. There was a pause as he attempted to figure out what to say, he couldn't say what he felt. The Head Chef took a step closer and looked at Sebastian, he could tell the man was genuinely curious. Claude raised his hand and gently swept a lock of Sebastian's silky black hair behind his ear. His fingers dwelled on the side of Sebastian's face as he leaned in slightly. "I just can't," he whispered, his golden eyes looking into a pair of confused burgundies. Sebastian was so close, he could feel his soft skin under his fingers, warm breath on his lips and the sound of his heart.

Claude leaned in closer so that he was a breath away from the chef. "I," he paused and pulled back, "You had chocolate on your cheek," he commented as he rubbed the side of Sebastian's face. "I'm the Head Chef, it's my job to protect you," he stated slowly, as if that were the only reason. Once again he wasn't sure of what to do, he knew it wasn't the response Sebastian wanted to hear, but it was the only one he could say without the Patissier running for the hills. "I see," Sebastian muttered after a moment, even if he knew that wasn't what he wanted to say. "Sebastian, let me take you home, you must be exhausted," Claude commented. The Patissier was about to say something when he sighed and shook his head. "Why? Why do you protect me? Is it only for your job?" he asked angrily. Claude was taken aback, he had no idea why Sebastian would be asking this. Part of him prayed that somehow the tides had changed, "No," he stated. Sebastian crossed his arms and glared, his red eyes narrowed and he looked as though he were about to curse him. "Then why?" he asked. Claude drew a deep breath and sighed, before he could think his lips were pressed to Sebastian's.

Sebastian's lips were smooth, warm and supple, all things he had dreamed them to be. His fingers found themselves in Sebastian's hair as he closed his eyes and continued to press his lips to the chef, who had gone rigid. Claude pulled back, his heart ached, Sebastian didn't return his kiss, he wanted a reaction out of the man. Something, a slap across the face, a string of curses, criticism for breaking his own rule. Something that told Claude, Sebastian was alive. Claude's golden eyes flickered open, they had been closed to enjoy the moment of peace he had received from enjoying the chef's warmth. Sebastian was pale and ever so confused, "Why did you just- why would you?" he stammered before slowly backing away. He looked like an animal trapped in a cage that was far too small. The Head Chef's heart clenched as he allowed his mask of indifference to fall, clearly the Patissier didn't feel the same way. "I'm sorry, I-I didn't know how else to," he began nervously before he heard someone clear their throat. Leaning against a beautiful black Mercedes was none other than Ciel Phantomhive. His eyes narrowed and he looked darker and somehow older.

Sapphire eyes fell on Sebastian who visibly stiffened, he no longer looked like the elegant chef who had schooled Landers, he looked weak and fragile, as though he would break if one brushed his cheek with a feather. "Sebastian, the second challenge is tomorrow, let's go," he snapped. Claude had a horrible feeling about this, as the Patissier walked over to Ciel stiffly, his head hung and clearly there was some unspoken law that prevented Sebastian from acting out. "Sebastian," Claude called causing the Patissier to stop, he didn't even look back, "You did well, good luck tomorrow." The watched Sebastian slowly step toward Ciel and slip into the back of the car. In seconds it was gone and he was left alone again standing outside, "I love you," he muttered as he watched the car vanish.

He felt a pair of small warm arms wrap around his back in an attempt to sooth him, "I know you do Claude," Alois stated softly. Claude closed his eyes for a moment, of course Alois had seen his pain, "Want me to come over tonight?" asked Alois slowly. Claude was quite, company wasn't a bad idea but he also wanted to be alone. He couldn't face another person now, not after that, Sebastian probably thought he was simply a bastard of a Head Chef, which wanted to mess with his head. "Sure," he replied, "Just to talk, and maybe a stiff drink." Alois merely bobbed his head as he followed Claude to his flat.

~~xXx~~

Ciel sat silently in the car, he was fuming, Claude was offering Sebastian hope. Hope was something he couldn't allow Sebastian to taste if he was going to remain in control. Even if Sebastian had won the first challenge, it didn't mean Sebastian could do as he pleased. "You kissed him," hissed Ciel as he looked out the window, "Him of all things." His words were dark and he noticed how the Patissier looked nervous as he gazed at the man's reflection in the window. "I didn't, he kissed me," Sebastian defended feebly, naturally Ciel had seen that, he was more irritated that Claude was trying to touch something of his. In reality Sebastian had no rights, no freedoms, and honestly would never have them. Ciel only wanted to control him, Sebastian was keeping his customers coming back, a kept goose.

"I see," he drawled before leaning his hand on the window. If Sebastian won, Ciel would get the right amount of repor which, meant there wouldn't be a question as to who was the top of the industry. "Don't let it happen again, I don't like it when other people touch what is mine," he spat. Sebastian was frozen for a moment. He looked both frightened and angry, "I'm not an item!" he shouted. Ciel paused and turned his attention from the window to the chef. He hadn't seen this behavior in a while. A smirk curved his lips, perhaps there was still a remnant of Sebastian in there. "Oh?" he asked mockingly, "Who paid for you?"

Sebastian was silent, "Who is it that paid Angela, and kept you from being sold to a merciless drunk that would simply beat you?" Ciel asked, his voice cold and calculative. Sebastian stared at him, "You were never free," he muttered. Sebastian was still, Ciel was beyond furious, he had paid more for Sebastian than any stock on the market and he be damned if he didn't get his money's worth. The car pulled in front of the building and Ciel forced Sebastian out of the car, naturally there were a number of reporters waiting to speak with Sebastian. Ciel tuned them out as he listened to them sing praises for the Patissier. Ciel smiled happily, always playing the lovable little lord his father had taught him to be, it was now only harder. He knew he wasn't lovable, Lizzy was with him because she had to be. He kept her because she was good in bed and generally looked fantastic around his arm.

Ciel had been so lost in thought that by the time they reached his floor he found himself standing in the living room. He could see out of the corner of his eye Sebastian attempting to get away, "Stay," he spat, "We need to celebrate." There was a glint in his eye as he thumbed the box of chocolate, he had Sebastian make them, it only seemed fair that the Patissier should test them. It was going to be, in Ciel's opinion, a wonderful night.


	27. Chapter 27

_I would love to thank all of you, my old readers and the new, who have been consistantly reading, reviewing, and adding me to various lists. I am back at college so the updates will resume as schedualled soon, I'm hoping by Octorber I will have these figured out. I apologize for not responding to all my readers, both old and new personally, I know you guys love it and honestly I haven't had the time. Anyway, I hope you like what's to come. _

_Also note that the youtube list has been updated, so check it out. There are some beautiful tracks for this piece. _

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**Chapter 27: Knife 2: Blood Red Raspberries Part I**

Sebastian stood there eying Ciel cautiously as the young man walked to the sideboard and opened a decanter, "A little Scotch to warm us up and enjoy the evening," he said smoothly as he poured the amber brown liquid out of the bottle. The high ball glistened in the light as he walked over to Sebastian and placed it firmly in Sebastian's open hand. Clearly he had no say in the matter, "Ice Cream was clever on your part, however it wasn't easy for the judges to determine the score because of it, why were you so confident after pulling that knife?" asked Ciel as he took a seat across from Sebastian. The Patissier was silent for a moment before looking into the glass, Ciel wanted to know that now. It was odd, but honestly seemed like a natural question. "I've worked with ice cream and lavender before. I will admit my first attempt didn't turn out as well as this last one. Then again I didn't use LN2 last time," he stated.

He could remember the chef's comment's clearly, the Japanese chef had mentioned it's use but didn't elaborate, simply implied that he should know what it was used for if he wanted to make ice cream again. "Then why did you smile?" asked Ciel in confusion. Sebastian was quiet, it wasn't until now he understood the smile, it wasn't simply the ingredient that made him stronger, it was Claude's confident gaze. Those golden eyes that looked so strong and his firm nod urging him to continue, that's what gave him confidence. He had worked with Lavender before but to make a cake. "The last time I used Lavender was a wedding cake, it was in the icing, honestly it was a bit of an odd order when I had first made it. A Professor was getting married and asked me to craft it," he stated after a moment. He could remember the bride as she asked him, the woman was known for her skill with a knife and unique flavor, but her baking was non-existent.

At first Sebastian had refused, he didn't have the time or confidence to make a cake of that size and importance. It was her day to tie herself to the man she loved freely, he didn't want to ruin it. He was terrified of messing it up, "She stated it had to be lavender to soothe her nerves, so naturally I complied. After crafting it I was praised to no end," he said slowly as he smiled at the memory of the woman smiling at him over a bouquet of white roses. Her gray eyes glittered in the light as she held her groom closely. They were the happiest pair he had seen, her husband was tall with platinum hair and broad hands. He looked as though he could carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and not even flinch. He had a rather angular nose and dark green eyes, his voice was soft but strong. He never stuttered or mumbled, he was always clear and concise.

"How quaint," said Ciel mockingly, making Sebastian flinch from the memory, it was one of his better ones and the only time he had ever been proud to be Sebastian Michaelis, the Patissier. "I guess you could say that," he said softly as he took another sip of the drink. Ciel was up again and walked into the kitchen, "I'm grabbing a snack," he called as he vanished out of view. Ciel was acting oddly nice, it wasn't his speed, in fact it was unnerving. The young man only moments ago had threatened him, and now he was treating him as though they were friends. It made him only more cautious than before, after all Ciel wasn't known for making a move without having a motive. He was far too engrossed in the game he was playing, Sebastian glanced around the room looking for exits with all the possibility being that at any point in time he would have to run.

Seconds passed only for Ciel to return with a plate in hand of what appeared to be chocolates, Sebastian was about to relax until further inspection of the chocolate squares when the young man placed them on the coffee table. "Help yourself," Ciel said with a grin. Resting on the plate in white fluted cups were the familiar dark chocolate squares with flowers on them. He had made them for Ciel as a welcome home gift for Lizzy, now they were resting before him. Making the raven haired chef wonder just what Ciel had in store for them when he had first requested them. "No, thank you," Sebastian replied as he placed the high ball on the glass coffee table, he could see the white persian rug through it and was immediatly reminded that Ciel wasn't playing games with this. "I insist," Ciel said with a smirk as he took another sip of his drink.

Sebastian felt his mind begin to real and his heart pound in his ears. None of this was making sense to the chef, he remembered crafting them for the occasion of Lizzy's return, yet they were now sitting on the plate on the coffee table. "I can't," he whispered as his eyes glanced up at Ciel's sapphires. Naturally the word no wasn't in the equation. "Why?" asked Ciel curiously as he crossed his legs and took a sip of brandy from the glass, his eyes were cold and merciless. "What you asked me to put in them," he replied and Ciel chuckled. Sebastian came to the realization quickly that they were never for Elizabeth, they were for him. He sat up quickly only for Ciel to bark, "Sit down," his tone was clipped which told Sebastian to obey regardless of what his subconcious was screaming. "I want to ensure thier quality and for that I need you to test them," he said briskly as he picked one up from the plate, "If you refuse I can simply fire you and sell you off." Sebastian's eyes widened, he hadn't done anything to merrit a dismissal.

"You can't," he whispered and Ciel chuckled the chocolate was still between his fingers as he held it out to Sebastian. "I very much can, since I am your owner, I can do what I please with what is mine," he stated darkly. Sebastian shuddered at the thought, absently he wondered which was the real Ciel, was it the man he had met the first day or the one sitting in the chair across from him. Ciel stood smoothly and walked over so he towered over the Patissier, his fingers slipped under Sebastian's chin and squeezed it harshly before drawing nearer, he was a breath away and Sebastian could smell his powerful cologne, it was nothing like Claude. "I paid a small fortune for you, and now you shall do as I say," he stated as he forced the Patissier to looking into his fathomless sapphire blue eyes. Sebastian realized for a moment that he was honestly not going to have a chance against the young man, he was stronger than he appeared, something Sebastian had experienced the first time. It was better to submit, the pain wouldn't be as bad. He closed his eyes for a moment to draw a deep breath, it seemed as though everything was falling into place, he wasn't worthy of being loved, it was only a toy. Sebastian's eyes opened slowly as he opened his mouth. "Wonderful, it's good to know you have some sense of self preservation," replied the young noble before slipping the chocolate onto Sebastian tongue. He had been right once again he wouldn't get to sleep comfortably.

~~xXx~~

Claude unlocked his flat with ease and allowed Alois to enter, the blonde bartender looked around curiously at his surroundings, little had changed. He was about to plopp down on the sofa when he spotted a stunning black cat curled up in a ball. It had silky hair and looked rather small, "Wah, how cute," he gushed as he slowly ran his hand down the creature's back. Claude paused and looked over his shoulder, "What's her name?" asked Alois as he woke the cat, it's red eyes lifted and looked at him curiously before he slowly stretched. "He, and his name is Nightshade," he replied. Alois hummed as he looked over at Claude, "So why am I here with you and not getting shagged?" he asked with a hint of irritation.

Claude sighed as he leaned against the table, "I kissed him," Claude said slowly. Alois' mouth popped open and he stared at the golden eyed Head Chef. Claude ran his fingers through his black hair as he leaned on the counter of the Island. Alois stared at him as he watched the Head Chef lean his chin in his palm. Claude's face twisted into a grimace, "It wasn't supposed to be like this," he whispered. Alois picked Nightshade up and walked over to the now irritated Head Chef. Every signal the young man was giving told him to approach with caution. Alois took a seat next to Claude near the island and looked at him. He looked distraught, as though his love life was just failing, Alois froze, he knew better it was failing him. Usually by now he would have made a gin and tonic to soothe an aching heart and not even charged them for it. He wasn't going to profit off of someone's misery.

He could remember the evening a young woman walked in, she was wearing her best black dress and pearls. The dress was tasteful but hugged her curves as though it had been made just for her, she had a rather large bust and nice hips, but was trim in the waist. Her gate was in his memory, the very moment she entered the bar she looked confident with legs that looked as though they could go on for miles. He could tell she spent hours on her make up, even her hair was perfect. She had perched herself at the bar, with large brown eyes and beautiful long red hair was that was put up in a loose bun. Trendles had fallen around her face and she was glowing with excitement. She had ordered a Manhattan and sat there for a bit waiting, before he even realized it, she had been sitting there for an hour, with an empty glass. He naturally offered her another drink, another Manhattan. Hours passed, people at the bar moved on with partners for the night and yet, there she sat, watching the minute hand on her golden wrist watch sweep by. It was time to close and he stared at the woman, she had consumed two Manhattans and looked as though she were going to break down then and there. Alois was quick to walk over to her, now her makeup had smeared, her hair was a mess and her dress was creased with deep wrinkles. It was past midnight and it looked as though her fairy god mother had abandoned her during the wait for her prince.

He watched as she was about to break and said softly, "Miss, let me make you something," he said softly, his voice was smooth and he noticed how she looked up at him with pained eyes. Alois walked over to the back and pulled a cappuccino cup, in moments he had a French Vanilla Cappuccino in his hands. The warm coffee filled his nose as the vanilla soothed him. He slowly placed the large white cup before her and smiled. She looked utterly confused as her eyes flickered from the cup to himself. "Coffee?" she asked. Alois hummed and nodded, "Did you know a cup of coffee could heal the soul more than a shot?" he asked encouragingly as he gestured to the cup. The young woman slowly lifted it to her lips and took a sip. He watched a small smile sweep across her face, "It's warm," she commented before taking another sip, she cradled the cup in her hands for the rest of the evening. As she did so she told Alois of the man she had met. Before she left she attempted to pay for the coffee when Alois refused and stated, "It's always good to soothe a broken heart, especially when I've had mine broken so frequently."

He sighed and snapped back to the present, Claude's eyes were locked on the island counter, and much like the young woman had seemed to find the grain of the wood in the bar amusing. He slowly placed Nightshade on the floor and preceded to making a cup of coffee, it was one of the few things that many didn't realize a bar served coffee. Even at one in the morning, when the magic of Cinderella wears off it is still possible to order a cup of coffee from a kind and gentle pair of hands. The smell of French Roast filled the room as he finished grinding the beans and put them in the coffee maker, he was only going to make enough for a half pot. Alois reached for two mugs and commented, "Start from the beginning."

Claude drew a deep breath and began, "I'm honestly not sure where it began." There was a pause; Alois could tell what the statement had actually meant. Claude had been admiring Sebastian from day one; he would have never tried Sebastian's food if he didn't. "The kiss, what lead to it," Alois said softly as he slowly poured two cups of coffee. He placed one mug in front of Claude and then took a seat beside him, for once he wasn't standing on the other side of the counter. Claude raked his hand through his hair before slipping off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. Long fingers wrapped around the black mug before he looked at it's contents and hummed, "That moment when I watched him flicker from this meek chef, to a powerful and courageous one, that smile of confidence," he stated. There was silence as he watched emotions play out on Claude's face.

"That somehow a nod from me, could bring out the best in him," he said with a sad smile. His long fingers now caressed the lip of the mug, they were slow and Alois could tell they would rather caress something else. They paused as Claude smiled a little, "For a moment, he looked at me, not as Head Chef, not as the gay man, but me for confidence," he said slowly as he looked over at Alois. There was a look of innocence in the man's eyes, a spark that had been long lost since Ash betrayed him. It was bittersweet, Alois felt his chest constrict, "I saw him in his dressing room while the judges were selecting the dish, I fell in love with his work, it was wonderful," he said slowly. Alois could remember Claude vanishing to steal a taste, he had no idea he had managed to get his hands on a little. Part of him was envious, it looked delicious to begin with. "I waited in his dressing room, and watched as he sat nervously for judgment, yet he calmed when I told him my thoughts," he whispered.

The mug finally left the table for Claude to tentatively take a sip, Alois smiled; he knew Claude's tongue was sensitive, far more than the average human's. He closed his eyes as he tipped the mug and sighed, "I was so drawn to that look of joy when Hugo complimented him, I could tell the man was one of Sebastian's idols. For once he looked happy," he said slowly. Alois could tell what was spurring Claude into his actions. He watched the man fidget nervously, Nightshade had long since joined them on the island and sat before Claude, flicking her tail. "I thought for a moment my life was perfect, I thought that I would be able to finally protect him," Claude said slowly as he smiled and caressed the curved handle on the mug with his hand. Alois smiled, for a moment Claude was lost in his memory, "Sebastian looked frightened but so beautiful I just had to see what they tasted like," Claude said slowly. Alois' eyes widened as he watched Claude close his eyes and smile softly, he looked stunningly beautiful. His facial features relaxed as he finally allowed his memory to consume him. He looked years younger, his square jaw relaxed a little; his usual scowl no longer caressed his features. "They were so soft, and tasted even better than the ice cream," he mused slowly. Alois froze, he had never seen Claude lost in his own world like this; it was as though he were watching the man cook for the first time. Poised, serene and in his element.

It was a moment of silence that filled the room before Alois took a sip of his coffee himself. "My father called," Claude said after a moment, causing Alois to swallow the hot coffee harshly, it burned his throat as it went down and he stared at the chef. "He wants me to come home, and marry some girl," he said sadly. Alois stared in shock, Lucius was calling Claude, that wasn't normal. "What's going on?" he asked quickly as his nervousness appeared in his voice. The last time Lucius had done this, he pulled Claude away and was going to have him working in a glass atrocity. "I don't know," replied Claude as he dipped his head, "Ciel dragged Sebastian away as soon as I pulled away. He looked irritated as hell." Nightshade left her seat and wove before Claude, mewling softly, as though she were trying to offer the man what little comfort he could. The head chef lifted his head and slowly ran his hand down the lithe feline's back, his silky fur seemed to be the softest thing he had laid his hands on. "If only I could take him home," he whispered, "Ciel would kill me if I tried, I'm worried."

Alois was quiet as he watched the cat nuzzle the man's hand, leaning into his touch as though it were his salvation. "Ciel, is vindictive Alois, I know you like him but what he's doing," Claude said slowly and hissed, his face twisted with agony as he attempted to figure it all out, "is very wrong." The young blonde bartender paused and released a sigh, he knew Ciel wasn't treating Sebastian well, over the past few days he had watched the man's fire slowly fizzle out. It was like watching a candle flickering in the wind, so delicate that any moment it might just snuff out. "I know," replied Alois slowly. There was silence in the room, that lingering question which was nagging at him, "Will you go back to New York?" he asked slowly.

Alois looked over to see Claude's head resting on his folded arms on the table, his golden eyes were locked on him, he looked lost and almost confused. "I don't know, I just," he sighed and shook his head. Alois placed a hand on Claude's back, their plan to make Ciel jealous wasn't working, "Claude," he began as he watched the chef sigh. This was a pain he couldn't heal, something he could never take away, "I think we should stop pretending." The head chef's head shot up and he looked at Alois in confusion. The bartender hummed as he traced soothing circles into the broad back of the head chef. "You and I both know that whenever you are with me, you're thinking of him. You're a wonderful guy, and I love you but not in the way we should," he stated slowly. Claude stared at Alois blankly, "Claude, if you love him, then commit," he said slowly as he slowly got off the stool, "Commit to the chase, if you keep this up, he will slip through your fingers, and then what do you have?"

Claude's eyes were locked on Alois, he hummed and asked, "What if he refuses?" The young bartender's lips quirked up into a knowing smile, his eyes glistened a little as he replied, "He won't, just show him." With that Alois turned on his heel and left, his heels clicked against the wooden floor as he moved, before the door closed. He remained sitting at the island and slowly perked up when Nightshade rubbed against him. His slender fingers slipped over the animal as he looked into his all too familiar red eyes, Claude's chin rested on his forearms as he leaned on the island counter. "He really is a great bartender," he said lightly before sighing and looking at the black cat. "Perhaps I should listen," he said slowly as he looked at the cat. The small black feline tipped his head skeptically making Claude chuckle, "No I should listen, or I will lose him," he whispered.

He was about to say something more when a book caught his attention, sitting in the corner was a relatively untouched copy of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. He had read all the books to that point, but hadn't finished the final book, it wasn't that he didn't have time, it was the fact that it meant the end. Claude sighed, he had gotten halfway through the book. The Head Chef hummed before slowly getting up and walking over to pick it up. His golden eyes narrowed as he wondered how it all ended. His fingers swept across the cover, his favorite character was actually Severus Snape. He found the man interesting, even if he had always been painted as the villain, there had to be more there. Otherwise, why else would he throw himself between an angry werewolf and Potter in the third book. Why else would he join the order and work with the Dark Lord when he clearly knew his life was on the line. That animosity toward James Potter, which seemed to make it impossible for the Potion's master to see Harry. There was certainly more.

Claude picked up the book and opened to the page in which the black satin tassel fell from. The pages were just as thick as he remembered, in moments he was sitting on his sofa with his feet up and a book in hand. Escape sounded far more positive than facing the issue now.

~~xXx~~

It was hot, all to hot, and every cell in his body was ringing as fire spread. Sebastian closed his eyes as his head began pounding, an all too familiar feeling of being trapped in flames had kicked in. His head was light and he could tell this wasn't going to end well, "What about Lizzy?" he stammered as he watched Ciel leave his seat and stride toward him, he had a predatory glint in his eyes. At some point the young man had forced Sebastian into his bed, the sheets were soft and caressed his hot skin. Sebastian would have thought more about the room if it weren't for the intent in Ciel's eyes. The same look Francis had before taking him, fear flooded his senses as he attempted to break away. Yet his body didn't listen to commands, before he even realized it Ciel was leaning over him. "She'll be home soon, I sent her a box and knowing Lizzy, she's had a few," he commented with a grin.

Sebastian's eyes widened, he didn't want this, he never asked for this. "No, please, no," he whimpered as he attempted to get his limbs to move, his voice was trembling. Ciel looked slightly confused for a moment until a smile swept across his lips, "You are such a tease, so beautiful and yet you don't want anyone else to see you," he whispered as his fingers slipped through Sebastian's hair. Their touch made his skin crawl, and he shuddered, his body was screaming for attention while all he wanted to do was run away. Ciel's fingers slipped down Sebastian's cheek and then his slender neck, the Patissier could remember the night he had been caught baking. The cultured aristocrat suddenly became demanding and dangerous as he tore into Sebastian. His fingers slipped over Sebastian clothed chest, it made him feel as though something were crawling on his skin. Ciel's fingers gripped Sebastian's shirt harshly as he tore it over the man's head, a rush of cold air hit Sebastian's skin.

Ciel chuckled as he licked his lips, Sebastian closed his eyes, willing Ciel to vanish, only for hands to dance over his skin. "Such a slut, I saw what you and Claude did," Ciel whispered. Sebastian's eyes popped open only to see a tie in Ciel's hands. It was the same one he had been wearing. He held the piece of midnight blue fabric tightly in his hands, "I don't like people touching what's mine," he hissed as he slipped the tie over Sebastian's eyes, the thick band quickly blinded him as Ciel tied it tightly around his head. Sebastian began to panic, he didn't like this, he didn't want this. "Please stop," he whimpered as he attempted to scramble away, only for Ciel to pin him to the bed. He could hear the distant click of the young man's tongue echoing in the silence.

"You see, I told you to obey me," Ciel mused, Sebastian could hear the distant snap of leather and cringed, he had no idea what the young man would do. He could handle a lashing, but Ciel was in a state where he would take it too far. "I own you, even if I hired him, you are to never let him touch you," Ciel hissed as he slipped the belt around Sebastian's hands, binding them together above his head. The young chef thrashed and whimpered in terror, "No, no, no, I promise I won't, please," his words fell from his lips as he trembled in terror. He could feel his member getting harder, despite his efforts to calm his raging hormones. "Please, not this," he whispered in fear as he felt Ciel lick his ear. The young man's breath hit Sebastian's ear, making him cringe, "Never," was the only word which fell from his lips.

Sebastian continued to fight to get away from experienced hands, just when he thought he had escaped a hand tugged down his fly and in a swift motion stripped him of his pants. The Patissier's heart was pounding as he squirmed, "I will clip your wings, so you can never fly away," Ciel taunted as he flipped Sebastian over. The Patissier was helpless in the hands of a vengeful young lord. His eyes were closed under the blindfold as his fingers were clenched, no escape. Ciel's hands spread his legs before looking at his bottom, "Such a cute hole, I noticed it before, it's tight to," he groaned. Sebastian trembled, he could hear the rustle of fabric, he thought that Ciel was looking for lube, only to feel searing pain in his backside. Ciel's thick length was being shoved into him without preparation. Sebastian screamed in agony and terror. He could feel Ciel's hips move, "You. Are. Mine," were the only words which Sebastian heard before promptly vacating his head.

When Sebastian was a child, he learned two things from Father Francis, never tell and the best escape is in your head. Even though he was in agony, he could still do this, he could still run. Ciel's thrusting grew distant as Sebastian slowly shut it all out, he should have known that this kind of happiness wouldn't last, that Claude's affections wouldn't be enough to save him. Before he even realized it, he had slipped into darkness, the only place no one could touch so he could nurse a shattered heart.

~~xXx~~

Elizabeth hummed as she entered the flat, Ciel had given her chocolates, which she didn't have a chance to try. They looked as though Sebastian had crafted them though, but she didn't want to eat them alone. She would rather share them, she was quiet as she walked through the living room, Ciel had been worried about the challenges and honestly hadn't slept in a while. She was hoping to cheer him up with a bottle of his favorite red wine. Several similar chocolates were sitting on a plate, she glanced at them in confusion, they were identical to the small cubes which had been in her box. "What?" she asked in confusion when she heard a distant thud. Her head jerked up toward the direction in which it came from. Her mind was racing when she realized that Ciel could have been the cause of the sound.

A scream filled the air of pure agony, causing her to sprint toward the young man's room and throw the doors open. Her green eyes widened with shock as her fingers loosened around the neck of the bottle, causing it to shatter as it crashed into the floor. The precious red liquid spilled all over the white Persian rug. Lying tied up in the bed, seemingly unmoving was the Patissier with her fiancé towering over him, thrusting his hips roughly. "What the hell are you doing!" she shouted. Ciel looked up and chuckled, "Lizzy, didn't you get the gift?" he asked as he slammed into Sebastian as deep as he could.

The blonde stared at him in terror, "What have you?" she asked as she approached the bed, at first she was irritated with Sebastian until she drew nearer, blood was trickling from Sebastian's wrists and lips. His body was covered in scars and new bruises were forming. "Sebastian?" she asked slowly as she reached out to touch him. "Don't," barked Ciel causing her to jump with surprise. "Lizzy, you told me you wanted a taste of him," Ciel commented as he rolled the Patissier over so he was on his back, his member now engorged and twitching, precum leaked down the sides. "You stated he was delicious," he commented wickedly as he pulled out of the Patissier and held his hand out to her. She glared at him and hissed, "His food Ciel, why would you? How could you?" she asked angrily as she approached him and slapped him. It wasn't until she looked at Sebastian's back side that she saw the blood, it ran down his legs like ribbons and fell onto the sheets.

Her hand was raised before it came down across Ciel's face, causing the slap to echo through the room. "This isn't the man I fell in love with," she stated with tears in her eyes, "he's a man, and you, you are my fiancé." Ciel was unfazed, his hand simply cupped his cheek as he grinned, he honestly looked as though he were enjoying every second of her misery. "Did he even ask for this?" she asked as she looked at Sebastian. He was pale, clammy and she could see his chest heaving. Ciel sighed and ran a hand through his slate hair, "Does it matter? His attitude said it all," he stated. Lizzy stared at him, he sounded radically different from the man she was engaged to. She pulled out her phone and glared at him, "You," she hissed. Ciel snatched her wrist; his vice like grip caused her the cry out in pain. "Enough!" he shouted as he yanked her toward the bed.

"This didn't happen, you won't call Vincent, Diedrich, William or even Agni," he stated as he grabbed the phone and threw it against the wall. She stared in horror as the device smashed into it and broke. "I'm going to put him in his room, and you are to act as though you saw nothing," warned Ciel as he twisted her arm. The young woman swore for the first time she could see dots dance in her vision from the pain. "If you don't, I will destroy you, who would believe that I raped him. No you slept with him and were unfaithful to me," he stated. Elizabeth's eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder at him. He was sincere and unwavering; his sapphire eyes that were always filled with joy around her were cold and calculating. She swallowed and nodded before he released her and turned his attention to Sebastian. She was still as she watched the man she thought she knew pick the Patissier up and take him back to his room.

It was only now that she realized she knew nothing of him, that it was all a sweet dream. The Ciel before her was the one she would marry, she stared in terror as the man stalked out of the room. Now she was trapped, and had no escape. Rage filled her as she wondered just how Sebastian had managed to seduce Ciel. It had taken her years, and yet in a few months Ciel was sleeping with the Patissier. A block of ice filled in her heart, Sebastian didn't deserve the treatment he received, however he was in line for a slap once conscious. He had to have seduced Ciel, the young man never looked at men. He was as straight as an arrow. Ciel returned after a moment and she said, "I want him out of here."

There was a pause between them, "I'm afraid that's not possible," he replied after a moment. Elizabeth saw red as she clenched her fists, "Why the hell not?" she shouted. Ciel rubbed his temples as he slipped into a pair of loungers, "Because, the building doesn't exist," he replied.

~~xXx~~

Consciousness slowly came to Sebastian as he emerged from the fog, he attempted to move only for his body to scream in pain. A pained moan escaped his lips as he slowly opened his eyes, the blindfold was long gone as was the belt, but he could still feel it biting his wrists. Angry red welts glared at him as he looked at the now scabbed wounds, there was dried blood on his skin from them and he realized quickly that Ciel didn't even clean him up. His skin was sticky and he could feel the dried blood on his body. "Hurts," he whimpered as he tried to sit up, even though the fetters were gone he was still bound to the monster who had done this. He thought that once Angela was gone he could escape the abuse. If this were a nightmare he could wake up and it would all disappear.

After a moment he finally managed to get his body to cooperate, he had to take a shower, to wash it all away. Ciel had been careful not to release inside of him, which meant there wasn't anything to prove the man had done it. Sebastian's stomach churned as he opened the door, he leaned heavily on the wall. What was usually a few steps away, felt like an eternity, a familiar feeling. It was the same as when Francis had raped him the first time, the morning after he couldn't seem to move, and by the time he willed his limbs to do as he asked the pain was too intense to continue, he ended up laying in the hallway until another boy had found him. This time there was no one else to find him, he was on his own. After a few more agonizing steps he made it to the door, the pain shot through his spine as he pushed the wooden door open and staggered toward the shower.

He felt disgusting, the second challenge was today and Ciel had once again ripped him. It would be a miracle if he could stand long enough to draw the knife, let alone cook. His hands shook as he turned the knob in the shower and waited for the hot water to fall. After a moment he stepped in and sat on the floor. Tears finally slipped from their confines as the chef sat in misery, "Someone please make it stop," he whispered as he hugged himself and curled into a ball in the shower. He had arrived to the conclusion that no one was going to save him, no one could. That all he was good for was making people desserts that tasted divine even though his life was actually hell.

~~xXx~~

London was abuzz after Sebastian's demonstration of making Liquid nitrogen Lavender and Dark chocolate Ice Cream. Twitter and Facebook had exploded over night with the rapid fire discussion over Sebastian's use of what seemed like harmful chemicals to craft something ingenious. Fan's of Ash's work were utterly disgusted with the simple mistake and horrendous flavor, but hoped the chef would soon rebound. The studio was surrounded by reporters, all attempting to get a peek at the chefs as they entered the building and potentially find out just what they were planning. Landers was dressed in his typical white blazer with a pair of large sunglasses and had made his hair stand up, he looked more like a rock star than a chef. The cameras flashed as they attempted to hear from the chef about what had been going through his head during the first challenge. The patissier ignored these and offered a smile and wave as he stepped into the building.

The large black limo vanished from view allowing Sebastian to roll in; he was once again on his Roadster. It was odd to see him on the bicycle after Ash had stormed in with the full fledged fame and fortune look. The white roadster glided and everyone watched as the Patissier stood on the pedals and allowed it to coast. There was a murmur of confusion as he swung his leg over the bike as it continued to roll. His white scarf fluttered in the wind behind him and his long raven black hair swept behind him. Sebastian's red eyes were filled with what could pass as apprehension, yet he looked comfortable with the motions of dismounting the bicycle. It wasn't until he was closer that all of the other reporters tilted their heads, the young chef was in a navy blue cardigan that was snug but not suffocating, shined black leather oxfords, a pair of rather professional jeans and a white v-neck tee. The roadster stopped gracefully before the reporters as he slipped off of it with grace, in that moment he looked like a true Parisian. One that honestly had ridden a bicycle longer than drove. A stop that was as natural as making a meringue for the chef and a move which clearly attracted the press.

Sebastian gripped the handlebars and looked at the press who seemed to stare at him, he slipped his hand through his silky black hair in an attempt to tame it somehow, despite the fact that it was usually unruly. He smiled warmly as he walked beside his Roadster; it wasn't until he was near the door that he realized who the group was waiting for. "Mister Michaelis! You don't drive?" they asked curiously. Sebastian sighed and shrugged, "Not really, cars don't work well in Paris, it's better to cycle," he responded as he continued toward the studio. There was another flicker which caused Sebastian to jump, he wasn't prepared for the flash. His eyes shifted as he attempted to split the reporters so he could possibly walk. There was a murmur of excitement from a pair of reporters, "Looks like cooking finally has someone to contend with Claude Faustus," one of them whispered. Sebastian perked up after hearing the name of the Head Chef, "I know! He oozed pheromones, and those suites," one of them whispered. The pair looked at Sebastian and smiled, "I wonder what he looks like in a suit, lord knows Claude is delicious," the pair muttered.

Sebastian took that as his cue to go, he had no intention of becoming someone's dress-up doll, besides his legs began to tremble from the pain and he knew soon enough he would crash to the pavement if he kept this up. He slipped inside the studio and was greeted by Beast, Joker, Dagger and Doll. Dagger immediately took his Roadster, "Good you're here, we need to get make up on you ASAP," Beast stated as she lead Sebastian to the dressing room. Joker stood in the dressing room as Beast began to work her magic, "Okay a few changes, Sebastian you will pull Knife Two, however the time allowed has been changed to two hours, we will only be using bits and pieces, there will be a simultaneous live broadcast, however Ash's people have asked that an edited version go out later," he stated.

Sebastian looked over at him in confusion, "Ash has people?" he asked as his eyebrows lifted curiously. Joker sighed and nodded, as he snarled a little, "Well person, an insufferable lawyer who got on my case and the producer. Vincent is sick of him on my ass," Joker commented as he shrugged. Sebastian hummed, he didn't know much about law but he knew lawyers were irritating and this one had to be especially so since Ash had him on retainer. Joker's hazel eyes fell on his clipboard, "You know all of London is praying you beat the hell out of that prick right?" he asked nervously. Sebastian hummed and looked over at Beast who was grabbing more foundation, "I know," he started nervously.

He could tell Joker what happened last night, he was used to the pain associated with mistreatment and even agony of torture. Even if his body told him to not cook, he had to perform and Joker's statement only reinforced this. "You okay? You look a little pale," Joker commented as he reached out to touch Sebastian's forehead, Sebastian pulled away and Beast hummed. "I'll add a little more bronzer and use a slightly redder foundation to fix it," she commented, "Don't get sick on us now, we need you." Sebastian simply nodded and closed his eyes, today was going to be agony, it was bad enough he had to cycle to get there, "Hey Beast, do you have ibuprofen?" Sebastian asked after a moment. He needed something to keep the pain at bay, just long enough to get the cooking through and away from the prying eyes of the world.

The young woman tilted her head, causing her curly black hair to fall into her eyes and looked at him curiously. "Headache?" she asked innocently as she looked at him more closely, Sebastian simply nodded. Beast released a sigh and looked at him, "I see, let me grab some for you, I would accuse you of partying too hard but you were with Ciel, so I highly doubt that would happen," she commented. Sebastian shuddered and shook his head, "I'm quite sure he would kill me." Joker chuckled and nodded, he was about to say something else when the door of the room opened, standing in the doorway was Claude, he was dressed in all black again, if the Head Chef and Ash were to stand side by side it was as though you were looking at day and night. His golden eyes weren't hidden this time, his glasses were gone which caused his intense gaze to fall on anyone he spoke to. His black hair was a mess as always, yet seemed appropriate for the chef's demeanor.

"The horde of wasps at the door is irritating, I should call someone to fumigate the premises," he stated with irritation. Sebastian suppressed the desire to laugh at Claude's selection of words, he hadn't seen them as being that aggressive, but with Claude's looks and the number of single women hanging around the door it wasn't possible. His eyes fell on Sebastian and he smiled, "I came with a gift," he said smoothly as he held out a garment bag. There was a faint smile on his lips as he presented the black bag to the chef. His eyes twinkled with mischief making Claude look even younger than when he was sleeping. He looked oddly relaxed and laid back in the suit, a contradiction which made the chef suddenly understand just what drew women to him. Sebastian slowly opened it and stared at the black coat, "It's smaller and I had your name embroidered on it, rather than the logo for Ciel," he commented.

Claude pulled it from the bag and Sebastian stared at the emblem on the shoulder, it was that of Le Cordon Bleu. "If Landers can flash his school, you might as well," stated Claude with a grin. Obviously the man who had trained at the prestigious Culinary Institute in America was happy to have Sebastian flaunt his training. The clean black fabric between his fingers was strong, yet soft, it felt nothing like the jacket Ciel had given him. "I took the liberty of getting something that was a little more comfortable and not as stifling," Claude commented. The Patissier nodded as he looked at Claude, "Thank you," he said hesitantly.

Joker cleared his throat and commented, "You know, you don't have to be so awkward about it, it's not like you're secret lovers, or something," he commented. In that second Sebastian turned bright pink, his eyes were averted from Claude's gaze as the golden eyed chef's cheeks turned a little pink. "Yes, well, wear that, the other wasn't suitable," Claude replied before turning on his heel and leaving briskly, the faint trace of a blush still on his cheeks. Joker looked at Sebastian who's face was now extremely red, "Oh my! Do you have a fever?" asked Beast in a panic when she returned. Sebastian bit his lower lip nervously and replied, "No, Joker was having some fun," he replied. Joker looked at him in confusion and then back to the jacket. His eyebrows shot up, obviously he was putting things together. "Wait, you have the hots for Claude?" asked Joker after a moment. Sebastian stared at him even more nervously and averted his gaze, "N-No," he replied. Instantly he began to regret it, Joker had him.

"Liar, you like him," said Beast firmly as she crossed her arms. Sebastian groaned and looked at her his eyes met hers in the mirror, "No. I. Don't." he said firmly. The woman shook her head, "Nope, you do, you wouldn't be so red if you didn't," she stated simply. A grin now split her once pursed lips, it was filled with mischief, she looked more like a pixie than anything else at that moment. "No comment," Sebastian defended as he looked at Joker who was grinning from ear to ear. Instantly he knew the pair would hatch a plan. "You know, nothing makes the show better than a little romance," said Joker as he tapped his lips with his index finger. "NO!" Sebastian said with a hint of embarrassment. Joker looked at him as though he were insane, "It would bring ratings through the roof, not to mention piss Landers off more," he commented.

Beast clapped her hands and pointed at him, "Brilliant! Even if they are both men, the two are so hot no one would object!" she cried happily. Sebastian's burgundy red eyes were the size of saucers. There were several things in his life he would never allow, "I think you two should come out, after all love is beautiful," said Joker. Sebastian shuttered and closed his eyes, there wasn't any beauty in love when he was involved. Usually love for him involved a beating, Francis had shown him that, as had his other keepers. "No, just leave it alone," Sebastian growled. The pair were silent and stared at him, it wasn't normal for Sebastian to become aggressive, yet he had to protect himself, he was sick of the pain. "He probably doesn't even like me," he commented before taking the pills from Beast, popping them in his mouth and then walking out of the room with the jacket in hand.

He slipped into it with ease before looking at the doors which lead to the set, Doll was at the door with the bulky headset on and looking at them, "Now then, on my count," she said as Ash stood beside him in his standard white jacket. Sebastian hummed, he couldn't believe he was wearing such a comfortable article. Once she completed her count Sebastian entered the set and proceeded to where the floor had been marked. Vincent was standing before them in another sleek suit, his eyes sparkled with delight as the chefs stood before him. With a bright grin he began, "Welcome back chefs, as you know Sebastian won the last challenge and according to the rules has the opportunity to pull the next knife," Vincent explained. His brown eyes were locked on the pair, they looked nothing like the pair that Ciel possessed, "Sebastian, if you please," said Vincent as he gestured to the block again. It didn't take much to realize that the block had different knives in it from the previous challenge.

A smile spread on Sebastian's lips as he replied, "Of course," before walking over to the block, the pain had subsided after the meds. He honestly couldn't stop himself from grinning as his fingers swept over the handles of each of the knives, their cool touch made him feel even more confident. His fingers wrapped around one of the blades and he pulled it out. Written in bright red block letters was the second mystery, he turned around and flipped the knife over, "Raspberries," Sebastian stated. Ash looked as though he had finally gotten his chance at the limelight, which meant the Patissier was going to have to step it up if he was going to survive this. He walked back over to Vincent, if there was one thing he knew how to work it was a Raspberry. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a smiling German who was clearly a friend, and remembered the promise, he knew just what to make.

Vincent's speech seemed to fly in one ear and out the other as he went over the rules once again, everyone knew what they were, it seemed to be his way of building tension. Obviously it worked, because everyone was on edge. Sebastian placed the knife in the man's hand, once Vincent had finished his piece the pair bolted across the kitchen. Sebastian's nimble fingers wrapped around three baskets of the berries and placed them on his bench before b-lining for the pantry. Resting in a stack were the familiar brands of chocolate and their concentrations, once again the cameras were trailing him as his fingers danced across the shelves deftly removing the dark paper packages. His eyes brightened after finding a familiar dark brown package with a golden band around it proclaiming it to be 70% and Grade A. He plucked several bars skillfully and proceeded to grabbing a silver tin of illy coffee, castor flour, toasted almonds, vanilla extract, plain flour, eggs, a vanilla bean and finally salt. After placing the ingredients on the bench he smiled as he looked them over, mentally checking each one off the list of necessities.

After doing so he dashed to the oven and set the temperature, he had to make sure the oven was just right, not too hot and not too cold. Once completed he slipped away from the oven and turned his attention to the actual preparations required to craft his dish. In a flash he was sliding several sticks of butter from the digital scale and unwrapping them to place in the bowl. "Chocolate," he muttered as he grabbed one of the many bars, the crisp paper beneath his fingers peeled back with ease as he swiftly removed it. Using his hands he broke the bar apart and dropped the piece into the Pyrex bowl before dropping all the ingredients into the top portion of a double boiler. He had to melt the chocolate evenly so it would look like satin and not burn or lose it's signature richness. After filling the bottom portion of the double boiler with water he placed the pair on the range and watched it carefully. The smell of chocolate and butter filled his nose as he worked the two, the chunks slowly morphed into the rich satin texture he desired. Sebastian smiled with delight as he gently stirred the pot's contents with a special whisk. The Patissier lifted the whisk from the pot as he always did to inspect the consistency, and watched it drip from the metal webbing and fall in smooth strands of satin into the pot. He smiled merrily before taking it off the range and covering it. He wanted it to cool, but not stiffen too much. Once the double boiler was placed on a glass cooling plate he grabbed the long slender black vanilla bean and sliced it down the center with the tip of his knife. Vanilla and chocolate flooded his senses as he scraped the black substance into the pot. The silver coffee tin with the signature red logo on the side proclaiming it to be illy's was in his hands in seconds as he popped the tin open and scooped a quarter of a teaspoon of coffee into the pot. Once these two things were added, Sebastian gave the concoction a quick stir before replacing the lid.

The food processor buzzed as Sebastian whizzed the almonds in it, to produce a fine powder. Sebastian's hands seemed to move on their own as he measured both the flour and salt to a glass bowl, everything had it's own natural rhythm, time which could be kept on an individual's hands. With ease the almonds, flour and salt were combined in the glass bowl. He had promised to make something for a certain German, and now he was going to do just that. When he was in University crafting this particular pastry was one of her favorite things to do. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a very intrigued cameraman, he seemed extremely interested in the recipe. A smile curved Sebastian's lips as he cracked five eggs and watched them fall into the bowl. With his silver whisk in hand he began to blend them swiftly into the flour based mix.

The concoction thickened before the cameraman's eyes, Sebastian hummed as he began to sprinkle in the sugar, it looked as though he were adding just a touch of pixie dust. It fell into the bowl slowly as he continued to fold the two. A purr of delight left the chef's lips as he picked up the pot and poured half of the satin like chocolate into the base, the dark brown satin against the velvety light yellow base swirled as the chef folded it. The key to making the torte was folding the batter, rather than beating it. By folding it, the mixture becomes lighter as oxygen is introduced, giving the torte a light and fluffy texture that melts in the mouth, rather than weights it down. Once both halves of the melted chocolate had been folded Sebastian turned his attention to two pans and swiftly lined them with parchment.

The batter fell from the bowl slowly hitting the bottom of the pan which had been lined with pristine white parchment, the smell of chocolate made Sebastian hum, his eyes were locked on the pans as he added an equal amount to each. The oven had finally reached temperature, to his delight, and he slipped them into the mouth of the great silver beast. He chuckled as he turned it to bake and pulled another bowl, "Now the filling and icing," he commented. Sebastian didn't like many sweet things, he had the fortune of meeting a young German chef in one of his classes who wasn't a fan either. The young man was more than delighted to share with him a German raspberry filling that emphasized the tartness of raspberries but wasn't too sour. Just the right amount to sweetness. Sebastian dumped several baskets into the bowl and began to mash them, he would have to make a quick filling, he never liked using pre-made jams. His issue was it was always easy to tell when a chef had, it was far more beneficial to make a quick filling than it was to go with a jar. The trick was to not add a lot of sugar, and add a touch of lemon juice, the lemon would give it a nip and bring out the raspberries while the sugar reminded the diner that it was still a fruit.

The red mixture of mashed berries, sugar, and lemon sat in the bowl, it was a deep red and made him smile brightly, it would really set the dessert off. The pans would be in the oven for fifteen minutes which gave him plenty of time to start preparing the next set of ingredients to make the icing. Time didn't have a place in Sebastian's world, except for the very rhythm of his movements. There was the rustle of paper again as the chef unwrapped the bar and placed it on the block, this time he had to cut it into smaller chunks, he wasn't going to melt it, he was going to have the cream do that. It reduced the risk of burning the delicate ingredient and also subtracted minutes off of the entire process which would in the end give him far more time to decorate.

He drew a deep breath as he picked up the knife, a twinge of pain traveled down his backside and he closed his eyes for a moment. The ibuprofen should have lasted longer, he knew that, however he also knew Ciel had torn him. He drew several deep breaths as he schooled his features to look calm, even though he was in agony. His burgundy eyes opened slowly, his fingers caressed the sharp blade as he drew another breath. He had to finish, he steadied himself, as he grasped the knife and looked at the bar. There was a cracking sound as the blade slid through the chocolate, with a great deal of resistance. He drew the blade up again and went to slice the bar when he felt a sharp pain run through his body, the knife clattered to the floor as he looked at his finger, something warm and wet was running down it. There was an audible gasp as Sebastian looked at his hand, he made no motion to cover it, the stinging pain as the blood rushed to flee him was soothing in an odd way. The numbness began to set in and he watched as the blood dripped from his finger onto the white cutting board.

There was a frenzy as Vincent rushed onto the scene and called for the timer to stop and to have Landers stop as well. Sebastian's head felt light, as his ears began to ring, the numbness was setting in making the chef feel somewhat peaceful. A pair of large strong hands wrapped around his own, with a handkerchief, Sebastian's gaze lifted from the red flowers on the cutting board to a pair of very concerned golden eyes. "Sebastian," it called, those powerful eyes were filled with concern as his powerful grip increased on his finger. "Hold it near your heart," Claude commanded as he positioned Sebastian's arm. Landers halted what he was doing when the timer went off. "Pull them out!" barked Vincent as he pointed to the oven.

Things began to fade as the handkerchief became soaked, it was no longer a steel gray but red, the patissier swayed. Clearly he had cut himself deeper than he thought, "Stay with me," commanded Claude, he looked as though he were on the verge of breaking. Somehow Sebastian was leaning against that broad and warm chest which smelled of rosemary and thyme. He felt safe, his body was heavy as he fell further into the man, the world was fading on him and he closed his eyes. Perhaps this was for the best, the pain was finally gone, he was numb and free, finally.


	28. Chapter 28

_I want to thank all of you for the reviews and constant favorites and follows of this piece. Honestly you guys are great. I decided to not make you wait. My Beta hasn't touched this yet so there will be errors, however, I didn't think you guys could hold out any longer. Truth be told, I couldn't either. _

* * *

**Chapter 28: Knife 2: Blood Red Raspberries Part II**

There was silence in the room as Francis looked at Angela, it had been several days since she had dragged him into her office. As always she was dressed in a tightly fitted white bodice, she had a plum blazer on and black dress slacks. "Tell me everything," she commanded as she looked into the eyes of a very nervous Francis. The priest swallowed harshly as he looked into a pair of menacing purple eyes, the eyes of something that a person would misinterpreted as a demon. She moved smoothly as she crossed her legs, her eyes settled on him, a predatorily glint in her eyes told him there was nowhere to run. "I don't know where to start," he muttered slowly as he felt the rope bite his wrists, slowly gnawing past the flesh and into the bone to tie down not only his body but soul as well. She chuckled, the sound made his skin crawl, part of him wondered if the dark had always looked so beautiful. "The beginning would be nice," she sneered.

"I want to know one thing," said Francis hesitantly, causing her eyebrows to lift curiously, "If I tell you, just what will happen to my pet?" A smile curved Angela's lips, clearly she had thought about this, then again he was making a deal with the devil. "Simple, I will rip him from Phantomhive and auction him as planned. I've already started to undermine Vincent and will soon enough tear his establishment to the ground," she mused, there was a hint of joy in her acidic words. She could speak of destroying a life so easily that in many ways it frightened him. Yet the ability to repossess Sebastian sang louder than all of the women's plans. "Alright, it started when he was a child. He was so beautifully innocent I just had to have him," he stated simply. A smile curled Angela's lips, he could feel the thugs behind him shift and he knew it was going to be a very long night, of which he could only pray that he would survive till day break. "Let's get one thing straight Francis, you fell long ago, so continue into the darkness with me," she stated as she tucked a strand of stray white hair behind her own ear.

The priest stared at the woman as she leaned over, her fingertips stretched out to him, a wicked grin had curved her lips, he could smell her perfume and felt a tingle of fear run through him. He stared at the soft and long slender digits that stood out in the dark office, her fingers were a breath away, he stiffened reflexively, he had heard what those hands were capable of. He closed his eyes instinctively as she slowly caressed his cheek, her touch was soft yet cold, it was as though she had pressed an ice cube to his face, "Look at me," she commanded. Francis' eyes flickered open, she smiled and replied, "You will fall with me, even deeper into hell. There is no light for people like us," she commented as she trailed a long sharp nail across his cheek, he could feel it leaving a long and slender mark in it's wake.

"I don't usually add another piece so late in the game, however a certain V. P. has blocked my Queen and I really want to use her," she commented as she glanced at the chess board standing near the wall. Francis glanced over to see the remants of marble where other pieces must have been, one pawn had made it to the other side. He watched as one of her goons slowly swapped it for a Bishop. His eyes followed the pawn as it shattered, she forced him to look at her once again. "I can't take London with him in the way, I have France but now I desire Hong Kong," she commented. Francis was more than confused by the woman, he honestly didn't understand what Sebastian had to do with it. "Michaelis?" he asked. He watched the woman pull back, her icy touch receded with his hand, he honestly felt the chill run down to what had remained of his black soul.

"The one piece Vincent didn't count on," she replied as she gazed at him, it made him feel as though the woman held him under a microscope evaluating his every action and dissecting every muscle. "You see, Michaelis will do what Ash never could," she commented, Francis paused, Ash Landers and this woman were related, he stared at her, his lips parted as he attempted to understand just what she was after. "I will obliderate him in order to obtain what is mine. Ash was useful for a time, as he took hold of a certain Chef's heart but I didn't think he would be so stupid," she hissed. The incident with Ash Landers had been heard through Europe. "I don't understand," he commented. Angela sighed and chuckled, "You see, and you never will," her lips curled again, "Now tell me, what will make the little Patissier squirm."

~~xXx~~

There was stillness in the room, the only movement in the room was the rise and fall of Sebastian's chest, the steady blip of the heart monitor and the sound of a silky smooth voice. It was melodic and gentle on the ears, like silk as it curled through the air. Just outside the doors there was a pair of nurses who sat quietly with their eyes closed, listening to the very sound of the speaker's voice as his tongue caressed each syllable with ease. The room was a stark white, and it had been long since day, well into the night. Vincent, Ash and the judges agreed to hold the competition until both were healthy. Sebastian had lost a great deal of blood and at one point had gone into shock, little did they knew what had actually happened to him. Only a doctor and a certain chef knew. Sebastian was laid in bed, his eyes closed and he looked extremely pail. Yet somehow peaceful, he had been given powerful pain medication just so he could sleep. Sitting across from him with legs crossed and a book resting on his lap was a golden eyed Claude. His fingers rested on the edges with a black tasseled bookmark between them, which contrasted the bright orange cover.

"_And then the source of the light stepped out from behind an oak. It was a silver-white doe, moon-bright and dazzling, picking her way over the ground, silent," _Claude began and paused, _"and leaving no hoofprints in the fine powdering of snow."_ His voice seemed to echo through the ward as he read, his tongue caressing each word gently. It sounded as though he had read the section a thousand times, and yet this was his very first. _"She stepped toward him, her beautiful head with it's wide, long-lashed eyes held high. Harry stared at the creature, filled with wonder, not at her strangeness, but her inexplicable familiarity. He felt that he had been waiting for her to come, but had forgotten, until this moment, that they had arranged to meet,"*_ he continued. Before he even realized it he had become the attraction of the ward as he simply sat with his legs crossed and read.

He took a breath and was about to continue on when he heard a light tap on the door. His eyes jumped from the book to the threshold, standing in her typical bright red suit, was Madame Red. "How is he?" she asked after a moment. Claude slowly tucked his book mark back in the book and closed it gently, he had managed to get to chapter nineteen, he was honestly enjoying it. "Sleeping," replied Claude his eyes fell on a very pale Patissier, "Soundly, it looks like he's finally calm in his dreams." Madame red walked into the room, her red pumps clicked against the sterile white floor, shattering the beautiful Forest of Dean that Claude had managed to craft with the aid of Rowling. "So the morphine kicked in?" she asked slowly as she looked at the monitors, her red eyes never seemed to leave their screens. Claude nodded slowly, his hands resting on the hardcover of the book, he could remember the frenzy which had occurred as he Sebastian was rushed to the hospital. Claude closed his eyes, he couldn't block it out. He just couldn't seem to push it away.

_Claude's eyes widened as Sebastian went limp in his arms, "CUT!" screamed Joker as he dashed onto the set, Landers had stopped everything he was doing and stood there staring in shock. Clearly no one anticipated this, Claude could remember Vincent's harsh command to the competitor to pull the two torte bases. The smell of chocolate filled the room, as well as the metallic scent of blood. A pair of ENTs had arrived with a yellow stretcher at their side. The Head chef allowed them to take the limp feverish Sebastian out of his arms and place him on the board. _

"_Shit, he's got a fever and is going into shock," shouted an ENT as he took Sebastian's weak pulse, "Keep his arm in line with his heart," barked the other young man as they attempted to stop the bleeding. One of them frantically looked up and asked, "The knife, what was on it?" Claude heart was pounding, he couldn't believe what was happening, he always though Sebastian would find another, he never imagined loosing him in death. "Sir!" pleaded one of them, snapping Claude out of his stopper. "Chocolate, nothing else," he replied quickly. The pair of men nodded as they got him stable enough to move. Claude could hear nothing else as he ran down the hallway after them, his heart pounding in his ears as his legs went numb from the adrenalin which was coursing through his body. Nothing else mattered, somewhere he could hear Ciel barking something at him, only for Claude to ignore it and continue down the hall. "I'm tailing," he shouted to the men in the ambulance as he leapt into the driver's seat of his Jaguar. The press was going crazy as they stared at Sebastian and a frantic Claude racing after the ambulance, he had never seen reporters leap out of his way so fast in his life. _

_The drive to the hospital seemed longer than he ever imagined, "Please, please, be alright," he muttered over and over, a mantra in hopes that there would be some hope left. Perhaps god would grant him something in the way of a miracle. The ambulance made it to the ER, Claude hunted for a parking spot and before he even realized it, he was running into the hospital searching for anyone who could tell him something. Anything on the Patissier who had saved him from hell and offered him just a little hope. The wait had been brutal, Claude paced most of it, his shoes clicking against the floor, the tie he had selected to wear was long gone, and his sleeves were rolled up. His black blazer was lazily placed on the vinyl and plastic chairs of the waiting room. Again he had to catch Sebastian as he were falling, "For once in my life, why can't I prevent him from falling?" he asked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. _

"_Easy, he's never had help before so he doesn't know how to ask for it," replied a deep voice simply. The Head Chef paused and looked at the figure who had just appeared, standing clad in a pair of dark slacks and a pale blue shirt with an open collar was the last person he expected to see. Staring back at him was a pair of deep emerald green eyes; he had a large roman looking nose and high cheekbones that looked as though they had been chiseled of marble. "Hugo," said Claude slowly. Hugo hummed as he swept a hand through his black hair in an attempt to tame it. "I thought you would like to know what the judges have decided," he commented as he walked across the room and took a seat in the chair across from Claude. He relaxed slightly and closed his eyes, obviously the day had been far longer than Claude realize. "After a long discussion with Landers, his people, Vincent and Ciel," he began, "we determined it wouldn't be fair to hold Sebastian's incident against him, he's a talented chef and shouldn't be treated poorly because he sliced his hand open, it could happen to anyone." _

_Claude paused, it wasn't until now that he honestly registered what the man was saying, someone must have over ridden Landers, there was no way Ash would have agreed to those terms. "However it also isn't fair for the chefs to have such a great deal of time to craft a dish using the ingredient, so a fourth box will be introduced from which I will select the next knife," Hugo stated. There was silence, "Will Raspberries be returned to the box?" he asked slowly. Hugo shrugged, which was perhaps the strangest gesture the chef had yet to make. "To be honest, I don't know, no one does," he replied simply. Hugo was always known for being brutally blunt when he had to be, clearly now wasn't an exception. "I see, any idea what he was planning to make?" asked Claude curiously. _

_Hugo smiled a little, "To be honest I didn't recognize the filling, I think the base is a torte of some kind, dark chocolate too, but it seems far too sweet with a raspberry filling," he remarked. Claude sighed, naturally Sebastian had once again created a twist that alluded even the famous Hugo. He was about to say something else when the door of the ER opened and a doctor in green scrubs walked out. He looked relieved and as though he had finally caught his breath. "Mister Faustus?" he asked curiously as he looked at the pair of men. Claude nodded without hesitation and Hugo turned his attention to the doctor. "He's stable, we managed to get the bleeding to stop, his hand will be tender for a week, it's not as deep as we anticipated," he stated. A wave of relief rushed over Claude as he exhaled and closed his eyes. "May I see him?" he asked cautiously. The surgeon was taken aback, "He doesn't have family," Claude explained. The man sighed and nodded. _

"Claude?" called the familiar voice of Madame Red, he felt her hand on his shoulder. He was snapped back to the present and flinched slightly as he blinked away the memory. "Sorry, I didn't hear you," he commented as he caressed the edge of the book with his fingers. She hummed and looked at Sebastian, "He's enigmatic, one minute just when you think you know everything about him, he alludes you once again," she commented sadly. Claude sighed, he knew the feeling far too well, Sebastian always surprised him, yet there was one thing he could die for just one, to see him happy. "Claude, do you remember what had happened the last time he saw me?" she asked hesitantly. The Head Chef's golden eyes narrowed, he didn't like this topic, it meant she was going to bring up more pain in the man's life. "What?" he asked slowly.

Madame Red hung her head and whispered, "The fever wasn't caused by the cut, actually he had it long before the fact, he's littered with bruises and his wrists are practically raw." Claude's eyes widened, again he was in this position, anger coiled in his limbs as he attempted to restrain the angry mysterious that sought revenge. "Who," he hissed, demanding a reply, only for Madame Red to sigh. She looked upset as she slipped her hands in the pockets of her lab coat, "That's the thing, he washed the evidence away, Claude I don't think this is," she trailed off when she felt her mobile buzz. She huffed as her fingers fished it out of her pocket, "It's Flynn, he's in the ER with a troublesome patient and requesting my assistance," she stated before turning to leave. Claude was irritated but reluctantly allowed her to leave, she was a doctor after all, running last minute was her specialty. "Faustus, I know this is hard, go home and get some sleep, you honestly look like shit," she commented. Claude was about to retort when she vanished before him. "Meddlesome as always," he commented.

His golden eyes fell on Sebastian as his chest constricted, "Please, let me save you, let me protect you, just please," he begged as he slowly grasped one of the raven's talented hands, "don't try and do it all on your own."

~~xXx~~

Vincent was sitting at his desk and sighed, sitting on it was a thick white card with violet ink. His hands were still trembling with rage, he was being toyed with and the events in the kitchen today would cost him. His chocolate brown eyes closed for a moment as he attempted to calm himself, Mei Rin had only just delivered the note, and yet he felt like killing the sender. Everything was slowly falling on top of each other, Sebastian may not be able to survive Ash, Ciel was after something a significant sum was missing from his private account, more slaves were coming in and Angela was growing bolder, Rachel's cancer. He paused and drew a shaky breath, he had gotten the results of the biopsy and the chill which came with fear flooded him. He could fend off traders of the black market, assassins and even the most devious of associates, but cancer wasn't something he could beat. Not when it was this bad.

Rachel and Ciel were everything to him, he would do anything to keep them safe, anything. Yet Ciel was working to undermine him, and was clearly up to something, Lizzy wouldn't have tried to call him if he wasn't. Elizabeth hardly contacted him unless it was detrimental, unfortunately he had been in the doctor's office with his wife during her call and decided he needed to be there for her. He could still feel her hand in his, frail, small and dainty, they weren't the hands of the powerful woman he married, they were the hands of a tired warrior who knew the end was near. He could remember the look on her face, they had taken her breasts and done implants, yet the cancer was still apparent and now spreading like wildfire. In truth they had no idea how they missed a piece or why it was proceeding to spread at an alarming rate. That moment he heard the doctor say he was sorry, his heart shattered. Rachel looked so broken as she was told how severe it was, the cancer was now eating away her bones, it was in her marrow, the chances of her surviving were astronomical. They knew it.

As the doctor explained in a detached voice he felt his wife grip his hand tightly, afraid that he would vanish, leave her vulnerable. He sighed and leaned his head against the window, "To think my greatest adversary wouldn't be Ms. Blanc but a mutant cell that would tear my heart out," he whispered in agony as he grit his teeth. She was so pale in the office, it looked as though the Grimm had visited her early and was waiting on her shoulder, scythe in hand, ready to collect the ultimate debt. The only words which left her mouth were, "Please don't tell Ciel." Four words which changed it all, his son had no idea the hell he went through to keep it all together while everyone was trying to rip his life to shreds, his son the boy he almost didn't have, would never know his mother's fears or secrets. Vincent tilted his head back as he felt the walls he had so carefully built collapse on top of him, allowing every emotion to cross his usually detached expression. His face twisted with grief as a tear rolled down his cheek and chin, into the collar of his shirt, where it remained. "She has months left," he whispered in agony, "A year at most and I'm trapped in this glass cage."

Sitting on his desk was the not in violet ink, off to the side was a chess set made of glass and the piece which had once been a pawn was now replaced with a bishop. Anger ran through him, as it coalesced with grief, a heady cocktail of sins which he soon began to bear.

_Time to promote my pawn to a Bishop, Vincent, are you watching? _

The note read, in sickly precise hand. Angela was growing bolder and steps closer to capturing his king. He had to get her out of London, and yet with each attempt she only avoid him. He groaned with irritation, the woman was after something and how she was able to out maneuver him irritated him. Someone had to be giving her information, there was no way she could read all of his moves with such ease.

Then there was Sebastian, no matter what he did, somehow Sebastian was involved. It was as though everything started with Sebastian, Vincent froze and turned on his heel. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the note, "Bishop," he muttered and shook his head. There was no way that was a coincidence, "Sebastian," he paused. There had been a priest in the past, but she never alluded to Sebastian before, never actually, and yet he had a sinking feeling that this all started with the unfortunate events that when compiled together were called Sebastian's life. He pulled his mobile out of his pocket, "Let's see what my loyal Sheppard can find," he mused.

~~xXx~~

Alois sighed as he walked down the street, Claude had once again gone with Sebastian, he hummed, something was off with Ciel. "He's never looked that nervous before, not even when he proposed to Lizzy," he commented as he remembered his facial expression after proposing to the boisterous blonde. He hummed as he continued to walk down the street, he looked pale and almost as though he were going to jump out of his own skin. "Something's really not right," he commented as he continued to stroll through London toward his flat. A garble of voices assaulted his ears, as well as giggled making the bartender pause and back track, it wasn't far away. He continued walking backward until he noticed a pair of teens with markers drawing on a seemingly innocent man's face. He frowned and looked at them, "Oi, you lot! What the hell are you doing!" he shouted, perhaps now was the best time to step in, since one of them had a container of glue and intended to glue the man's hat to his noggin.

The teens paled and looked at him, they couldn't be older than fifteen and sixteen years old, he sighed and rubbed his temples. He may have gotten up to no good when he was drunk and desired to piss Ciel off, but not with a stranger in an alley which could easily be mistaken for assault, that was just dumb. He slowly approached the teens, "Come on, wake him up and apologize," he said as he pointed to the man that was sagging against the building. Alois couldn't tell precisely who it was, all he knew as that the figure was certainly male and unconscious. Whether or not he was intoxicated was another story entirely, well for now at least. It wasn't until now he realized that there were three of the scoundrels, they looked at him as though they were deer caught on the runway with a Boeing 747 looming above them, attempting to land. They looked at one another and grinned. Alois scratched his head in confusion and tilted his head to the side, they suddenly looked like mischievous pixies.

Two of them through the packet of sharpies at him and the other the thing of glue, "HEY!" shouted Alois as they sprinted by him. He should have known they were going to ditch, he sighed and was about to run after them when he heard a groan. Alois froze, all the color which had gathered in his face from yelling drained as he looked over his shoulder. The figure which had been leaning against the wall rose and rubbed his head, Alois' jaw dropped as he watched the powerful young man step out of the shadows and the pale light of a lamp above the back entrance of a bar. He had a pair of piercing gray eyes and silver hair, his shoulders were massive, his face looked as though it had been chiseled by Michelangelo, complete with sharp nose and rectangular jaw. "You!" he barked. Alois tensed instantly, "You little wanker! How dare you assault an officer!"

Alois was confused for a moment and shouted in return, "I didn't assault you, you dolt, I just save your sorry ass!" Those powerful forearms crossed his chest as he looked at Alois and responded, "Yeah?" Alois nodded and snarled, he didn't have time for this, "Yes you stupid wanker!" he shouted louder this time. The man smiled crookedly there was a hint of malice in his expression as he pointed to Alois' hands, "Then what is that?" Alois paused, it wasn't until now he remembered the teens had thrown the stuff at him, he had been caught, red handed and quite literally as the red sharpie bled on his hands. His azure eyes lifted from his hands to the officer's face, "This isn't what it looks like," he replied hastily.

The officer arched a brow and asked, "Really?" Alois sighed, there was no way he could talk his way out of this. "You're under arrest for assaulting the Chief Constable of Scotland Yard," the harsh voice commanded. Alois' eyes were the size of saucers as his jaw popped open. His luck was bad in the past but this was so bad, it wasn't even funny. "W-What?" he asked as he looked at his hands, he felt the cuffs weight them down and sighed. "Come on then, we don't have all night, the sooner we get you to the yard the better," he stated as he dragged Alois to his car. There was silence as he muttered, "For once I didn't do it and I'm still the one in cuffs."

~~xXx~~

The night had been long, it was a never ending string of injured young men and women, many of whom didn't speak English. She sighed, one case stuck out among them, a young girl who was about thirteen had been brought in. She was a small oriental, it was as though she hadn't been fed in months, she was honestly a skeleton wrapped in skin, which made her stomach twist. Madame Red had seen many horrendous things, but nothing that severe. The girl was covered in massive blue bruises and had several cuts, which had become septic. Abuse cases weren't rare, however cases in which patients received infections from poorly practiced medical techniques were. Despite the lashings on her back, it wasn't those which became septic, but the large cut down her thigh which had. Someone who wasn't very experienced had stitched he back up, but failed to clean the wound out properly, causing it to become septic.

The smell was still in the young woman's nose, it made her skin crawl. There was a band toward the middle of her back, a crest which disturbed her even more, she had been branded. No human being deserves to be treated like a barn animal, especially a young girl. Her heels continued to click down the hall, it was the most unusual case of the evening, and something to be honest she had never seen before. Madame Red stopped outside of her office door and quickly unlocked it, she sighed after finally crossing the threshold.

Sebastian had thrown her through a ringer, once again he had been raped, this was getting out of hand and she began to wonder just how many times in the past had the young Patissier been raped. There was evidence of previous abuse, however she hadn't noticed it before. She nearly told Claude until her phone went off alerting her to the unusual case which had been rushed in. There was a rustle of fabric as she slipped out of her lab coat and hung it neatly on a coat rack by the door. Her hair fell in red waves down her shoulders as she pulled the pins which held it in place. Now she had paperwork, which wasn't the best part of her job she had to admit. Madame Red slowly collapsed into her chair and was about to start when she heard the click of a lamp and was assaulted by the bright light of a lamp in the corner. "Good evening Ms. Durless," replied a smooth and deep voice. Sitting in the corner was none other than a certain loyal German Guard Dog, who belonged to her sister's husband.

She slowly straightened up, "Earl Von Wolfstadt," she replied smoothly as she looked at him. She had known the German for years, he only appeared when something was amiss, and she sincerely doubted it was simply about Sebastian. "Diedrich is fine," he said as he looked at her and crossed his legs. Her eyes narrowed he looked far too uncomfortable, usually she would shout about him breaking into her office and slipping past the nurses, but knowing Diedrich this wasn't difficult for him. "What do you want?" she asked slowly, she felt as though he had managed to corner her with his gaze, it was cold, steeled and nearly untouchable. Diedrich sighed as he pulled out a stack of photos and replied, "Information," before tossing them on the coffee table before him.

* * *

_* Chapter 19 from the Deathly Hallows, the Silver Doe. _


	29. Chapter 29

_Author's Note: I apologize for taking so long. Midterms are coming and college has been hectic. I did a breeze over in this chapter, so if you find any really horrible errors feel free to PM me and I'll fix them. I just didn't like leaving you hanging for so long. Althought I can't say this will be any better. _

_Thanks again to all my readers, you guys make this worth while. _

* * *

**Chapter 29:** **Shadows**

Madame Red stared at the stoic German across from her, as always he wasn't revealing a thing, it was perhaps one of the many qualities which Vincent found important in the man. "I have no idea what you are talking about," she admitted. There was a pause as her eyes fell on the photos which he had haphazardly flung on the table, the once orderly stack was now a mess. She drew a deep breath before leaving her seat and walking toward the coffee table. Resting on it were some of the most gruesome photos she had ever seen. Children of different genders and ages, strung up like wild animals, she felt as though she were going to vomit, "My god," she whispered.

Diedrich sighed, "I wish," he hummed making the woman stare at him. Diedrich wasn't a god fearing man, he had never been, she wasn't a fool, she knew what her brother in law really did. Toys were one of the nicer enterprises under the watchful eyes of Vincent Phantomhive. Vincent wasn't nicknamed the Demon Lord for nothing in the inner circles of the court. His soul purpose was to keep the black market from touching her majesty, it was recognized that there had to be an underworld in English society, however it had to be contained to the shadows. Vincent was it's keeper, a demon among the monsters, a king who would stop at nothing to maintain his hold on the Underworld. Her eyes fell on the photos every single one of them had the same brand she had seen the night before, "I don't really know, I treated a girl recently, she's recovering, she had a brand identical to that," she explained as she gestured to the one in the photo. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Diedrich's eyes narrow slightly, clearly he didn't believe her.

"Look, that's all I know, she was pretty ragged when they brought her in. I did get the name of the guardian though," she said slowly as she turned to her desk and picked up the file. Diedrich's hand shot out for it, of course he wanted to look. Her eyes narrowed as she held it close to her chest. "Doctor Patient Confidentiality," she barked. Diedrich huffed as he reached in his pocket and whipped out a badge, it wasn't simply one for the Yard, it was issued by her majesty, clearly he had seen this coming. "Breached when cases of abuse are involved Durless, you and I both know that, hand over the file," he shot, obviously Vincent had chewed him out. It wasn't unusual when you really thought about it, Vincent was under stress and whoever was running the ring was showing up in the papers, not good for him.

"Fine, just do me a favor I didn't give them to you," she hissed before shoving the file at the man, she was tired of being cornered by the German. Diedrich smiled a little as he opened the folder, his brows lifted as he stared in confusion, "Are you sure it was him?" he asked. Madame Red tilted her head in confusion and stared at him blankly, "Who?" Diedrich sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Francis, a Father Francis Malone," he stated slowly. She sighed, remembering the graying man of the cloth, "Yeah, he said he found her on the street and brought her to us," she commented. Diedrich looked at her and then the file, "Francis is here in London?" he asked in confusion. Madame Red watched the German pale slightly before erecting a mask of indifference. "Diedrich?" she asked slowly he didn't look like he should, he was pale and rather nervous, it was as though he were looking at the man who nearly lost Vincent.

"It's nothing," he replied curtly before turning to walk away with file in hand, "I'll return this," he stated as he briskly walked out of the room. The woman was left standing before her desk there was something off, Diedrich looked genuinely shocked. "What was that?" she whispered as she looked toward the now closed door, the man's footsteps no longer fell in the distance he had vanished as he always did, into thin air.

~~xXx~~

Burgundy red, it was the color of blood and the soul as it cascaded off the side of one of the pristinely polished glasses resting on the counter. It folded over itself with grace, releasing a familiar sweet scent with a hint of spice, the liquor was young in nature making it dry. However, it was still a fine bottle, with a gentle swirl the contents were shifted around the glass, a pair of emerald eyes were locked on it as they watched for sediments to fall out of suspension. Long pale fingers cradled it with ease as he slowly raised it to his lips. A pair of black rectangular frames rested on his nose. His hair was a mess and fell across his brow, his lips curved in a grin as he lifted it to his lips and took in the bouquet. "Perfect," he whispered as he took a sip. It was dry and yet seemed to warm his soul, "You always were one for Simi," stated a familiar voice. William turned slowly to see a particular blonde standing in the doorway with a leather jacket on and motorcycle helmet under his arm.

The Sommelier swallowed as he looked at the sleek form leaning on the door frame lazily, his eyes slowly took in the wicked grin on the Head Waiter's lips, his eyes were sparkling with mischief, clearly he was up to something. "It's a wonderful vintage," he replied slowly as he took another sip, this gave him the opportunity to look over the young man from head to toe. He smiled internally, a pair of skin tight leather pants hugged every muscle, leaving nothing to the imagination. He was wearing a pair of black boots and slowly followed every sensual curve. His calves were sculpted from hours of kick boxing. William's eyes continued to hungirly look at the man, the red belt hugged his waist tightly, it was trim and he could feel his fingers tingle, he so desperately wanted to wrap his arms around it. A white tee shirt clung to his torso under the beautifully tailored red leather jacket. He smiled as he looked at the young man, Ronald was strong and flexible, two things he loved.

His slender fingers were wrapped in sinful black gloves, one of his hands clutched the door while the other held his helmet. The Head Waiter's lips were curved in a teasing smile, begging to be nipped and bruised. His blond hair was slightly messier than usual, it's blond bangs fell in his eyes while the portion which he had dyed black was spiked in different directions. His skin was glowing and he could tell Ronald had enjoyed his ride on his Ducati. That infernal red bike that scared William to death when he had first heard Ronald purchased it. He didn't change his mind until he saw Ronald on it, his predatory crouch on it, emphasizing his beautiful back and powerful gluteus, the sight of the young man pressed against the machine was enough to make his blood sing. William hummed in approval as he lowered the glass and grinned sinfully; all he wanted to do was press Ronald against the wall and strip him of that tantalizing leather. "You're here early," he commented as he smiled and placed the glass on the table.

Ronald pushed away from the door frame and shrugged before slowly advancing, "Traffic isn't an obstacle for those of us on a bike," he replied simply as he placed his helmet on the table. William chuckled and shook his head, "Welcome back," William said warmly, one of these days he was going to get Ronald to take him out on the bike, he didn't understand why Ronald loved it so. After the disaster with his car, Ronald bought the bike, naturally William had opposed it. It was dangerous and to be honest he didn't like the idea of Ronald not having a ton of protection while on the road.

"Thanks," he replied with a soft smile, as he closed the space between himself and William. The young waiter pressed a kiss to the man's lips before pulling away swiftly. William scowled with irritation at this, he intended to press the young man against the wall and spend some much needed time together. "Sebastian is in the hospital, do you know where the hell Faustus'' flat is?" he asked after a moment. William's eyes widened substantially, he had been working with a winery to secure an exclusive contract with them. "What?" he asked in confusion as he looked at Ronald. He had been there the first time Sebastian had collapsed and recalled the damage it had done the Head Chef the first time. Claude looked as though he had been hurdled into a state of sheer panic. "Yes," he replied curtly before placing the glass on the table and dashing after Ronald, he was about to snatch his car keys when the young waiter shook his head. "I think my ride will be faster," he commented. William's eyes fell on the keys to that infernal bike and he hummed, "Perhaps you are right," he replied.

On any other occasion William would have leapt for joy and happily bounded after Ronald. Ironically the young man refused to allow William to ride with him, for fear that if they got in an accident and if something happened to William he would never forgive himself. Guilt would have killed the man he had fallen in love with. The world seemed to stand still as Ronald handed William the helmet and the pair raced mounted the bike, in what seemed like forever was a matter of minutes as they parked the bike and dashed into the hospital. William had seen some of the darkest things under Vincent and Diedrich, however this was perhaps darker. He was about to take the exit toward the hospital when he was nearly run off the road by another bike with an odd symbol on the back. The rider was dressed in all white and had violet eyes, his form was slender and he smiled, "What the hell?" asked Ronald as he steered away from the bike, avoiding contact at all costs. William felt his heart leap into his throat, this must have been why Ronald wasn't interested in taking him out. He was about to shout in irritation at he rider when he noticed an all too familiar limousine tailing it, "Landers?" he asked in confusion.

William could hear the confusion in the young man's voice as Ronald turned his attention to the limo, "Something's wrong here," he whispered. William was about to protest when he felt the bike launch past the exit and tale them, "Look Will, I can get to Claude later, I have a bad feeling about this," he stated. William wasn't about to argue, when ever Ronald got a feeling like this, he was usually very right, in fact he was always right. It was a frightening fact in which even William shuddered at. There was simply something too unusual about Lander's limousine going toward the docks. Ronald pulled off into a side street and continued to follow them, it was darker and he could feel the breeze off the water. The limousine came to a stop outside of a warehouse and Ronald hummed, he had been right something very off was occurring and they were just about to find out what.

Ash slipped out of the sleek car and moved inside the warehouse, he looked as though he were floating. Ronald sighed as he slipped off his helmet and noticed the fire escape on the side which led to several windows. "Stay, I'm going to look about," commented the blonde as he left the safety of the bike and wandered over to the building. William glared at him and grabbed his arm, "Please, this is a job for me," he commented. Ronald groaned and shook his head; he wasn't going to argue this, "Fine, together." The pair managed to sneak around the back of the building to the fire escape, only to learn that the latter was stuck. "Shit," muttered Ronald. William sighed and rolled up his dress shirt sleeves, ignoring Ronald's curses as he stretched his arms over his head and walked a little. "Do me a favor and keep your eyes peeled," stated William as he walked several paces back. Ronald stared at him in confusion as William sprinted toward the later and jumped. Ronald's green eyes widened as the Sommelier soared through the air for a moment. His black gloved hands wrapped around the lowest rung and he pulled it down. He smirked and gestured to the latter, "After you," he said simply.

Ronald's eyes were wide as he looked at the man, "W-What? How did you? Later you so have to tell me later," whispered the young man in a frenzy as he managed to climb onto the escape. William followed with ease and hummed, he had a fantastic view of Ronald's beautifully shaped bottom. Under other circumstances he would spend more time marveling at it, however he was snapped out of his day dreams when he heard a loud shout and a shrill cry. Ronald moved over, just as they had hoped there were windows. Ronald crouched down before the filthy windows and squinted, the grime was so thick it was nearly impossible to see through them. William was beside him and shivered a little, Ronald swiftly pulled off his jacket and handed it to the Sommelier, "Thanks," he hissed in reply as he gratefully slipped into his lover's jacket.

Standing just below them was a very odd seen, "I don't have all night, I want them in different creates and cleaned. Doc! This one's got an infection!" shouted a very gruff man, his hands were massive and squeezed a small girl's arm tightly. A small and almost sick looking doctor rushed over and began treating the wound. The small child whimpered and attempted to run when the doctor's hand rose swiftly and delivered a harsh blow across the face. "Enough!" hissed a voice, the scene before them paused as Ronald and William watched a stunning young woman appear. She was dressed in all white, with short white hair and striking lavender eyes. "There is no way it's coincidence," commented William as Landers appeared. "She's merchandise don't break her," the woman stated before raising a black riding crop and smacking the doctor across the face with it. The doctor whimpered before touching his now blood covered cheek. "Get Francis," she commanded and turned to Ash.

William half expected her to gut him where he stood only for her to wrap her arms around his neck and press her slender body against his. "Welcome home, big brother," she commented as she kissed him on the lips, her tongue caressing his full lower lip making Ash's hands slip all over her body in a manner which wasn't suitable for blood relation. Ronald looked as though he were going to vomit and in all honesty if it wasn't for the situation calling for discretion he would have done so long ago. "How's it going, I heard he collapsed," she stated with a smile. Ash's hand came to settle on her ass and he caressed it with care. "He did, however they are going to null and void the challenge with another, as irritating as that is. I had to agree, I can't keep looking like a git in front of my own crowd," he replied. The woman shoved him away and glared at him, "That wasn't the plan Ash, I need to get to Phantomhive and the only way to do that is through him. You can throw your popularity out the window for all I give a shit," she hissed. William paused, Phantomhive she had to be talking about one of them, now all he had to do was figure out which one.

"I do, Angela I still have to find a job after this, living off of black market money isn't my idea of a dream," he stated with anger. Ash pulled back and glared at her, it was clear that he was more than irritated with her, and in all honesty was probably debating whether or not he could walk away. "If you win the competition you will be the most famous chef in all of Europe, it's not like you made him cut himself. He should be fine in a few days, then we may proceed," she stated. Ash sighed and shook his head, clearly she didn't acknowledge that right now he wasn't Europe's favorite person. "I know you want Phantomhive out of the picture, however why Sebastian?" he asked slowly. William's eyes narrowed, at least Ash had asked something of value, even if he didn't like him. Ronald leaned in closer and looked at William, "Which Phantomhive?" he whispered. There was a pause and then William realized that he wasn't sure, he couldn't have meant Vincent, he was untouchable and everyone knew it. He basically could do as he pleased and get away with it. The man had a private army of investigators and security, it was impossible to remove him from power, even MI6 had learned to leave him alone. He was simply too difficult to catch.

"Lets just say I know a financial way to dispose of them," she commented. Before she could say anymore an older gentleman walked over. He had grayed substantially and William had an eerie feeling, something wasn't quite right, he looked too well groomed. His hair was perfectly parted and he wore a black suit, "Francis, I'm glad you could come," she said sweetly, her tone was sickening and William took it as the same as when a rattle snake gave her pray a warning. "I did as you asked, however there was this woman who gave me an odd look," he commented, "A doctor, she didn't seem to believe me." There was a pause as she grit her teeth and William watched her personality do a complete 180. He shuttered unconsciously as her grip tightened in the slender black riding crop in her hands. "Oh?" she asked, smiling dangerously. That was more than enough of a hint for him, "She had red hair and a pair of red eyes, she was quick on her feet but I could tell she saw through me," he replied. She glared and was about to say something when a guard hurried up behind her, "It appears we aren't alone," she announced, "There's a red Ducati outside," she stated.

Ronald and William looked at one another before turning to leave, "Find them, I don't want anyone leaving," he hissed. In seconds the pair were sliding down the ladder to get to the street. Their shoes hit the ground and Ronald looked at William, "Come on," he hissed in moments the pair had started their mad dash down the alleys between the warehouses. Their footfalls echoed through the streets as they attempted to get away, William's heart was pounding in his ears, if the treatment of the young girl was any form of a warning as to how they would be treated if captured, he certainly didn't want to be subjected to it. "This way!" screamed one of the men following them, there was a loud bark which followed sending a chill down William's spine. "Shit, Doberman," muttered Ronald as he skidded around a corner, his shoes protesting as he went and narrowly missed a large create. William managed to keep up with the blonde who clearly had more experience in this department than he did.

The Ducatti was a breath away, and William looked over his shoulder to see another crew following him, "William, when I get on the bike, you better hold on for dear life, I'm not going to slow down," he stated as he leapt over a crate and mounted the bright red bike. William followed suit and wrapped his arms around Ronald's waist, in seconds they shot down the alley. They were going far faster than before which suprised Will, he had forgotten how fast the matchine could really go when it wasn't being reigned in by the rider. William clung to Ronald after realizing for once Ronald was being sincere, he could actually fall off. Ronald made an abrupt turn around the corner and noticed he had managed to get himself pigeon holed. "Bollocks," he hissed before turn harshly and looking. William could feel Ronald's body tense and realized they were in trouble, he pressed his head into Ronald's shoulder and whispered, "Do what you must, love. I trust you." He didn't have a choice, Ronald knew what he could do on this bike, better than anyone, he would just have to accept it.

Ronald stiffened, he could feel it as the blonde came up with the solution, "Hold on," he commanded as he sped toward a pair of two by fours which were close together. William's eyes widened, Ronald wouldn't try, or at least that was what he was trying to convince himself of as noticed the planks grow closer. He closed his eyes as he rushed up them, the harsh angle made him feel as though he were falling. His heart was pounding in his ears as he felt the bike lurch forward. William's eyes snapped open as he felt the air rush past his ears and the faint growl of the bike. Ronald's powerful body under his was relaxed and he could tell he felt beyond free as he aimed for a shipping container. The adrenaline that was rushing through his body reminded him just of how surreal it was to be tearing through the sky. A bright red container grew nearer and he felt his terror smash into him, if Ronald hadn't accelerated enough they would smash into it, and if he had gone too fast they would miss it entirely.

"Oh shit," squeaked William as the front tire of the machine hit the ribbed top of the container, in seconds Ronald had the bike on top of a series of containers and was roaring down them. Over the side William could see several sets of goons attempting to keep up. The ribs of the containers caused the bike to bounce uncomfortably, only adding to the wave of fear that was crashing into him. Ronald didn't even stutter or twitch as he turned and shifted with ease, it was as though he were part of the bike which made William wonder what it was like to have such a surreal bond with a machine and himself. William felt his heart soar as Ronald leapt over a gap from one row of containers to the next, the small hop was easy for him as he pivoted and shot past the guards who had made a wrong turn, "Whoa," shouted William in shock as the bike made another sharp turn, "I need to get out of this labyrinth," Ronald shouted as he started looking for an exit. "You're the one who chose to ride up here!" shouted William. Ronald sighed as he made another turn around a massive stack of containers, logos, colors, characters and various number rushed by as they road across the lids of each container. If it had been a pleasure ride William would spend more time admiring the view of the harbor in the evening. Ronald turned his attention to a docked ship, "Damn it, I'm going the wrong way," he groaned as he jumped off a series containers, from one to the next William began to feel a little more confident in Ronald's skill.

"There," he said happily as he located a ship from China. William tensed, they were unloading containers, the crew was off the ship, there was shouting and cursing as they worked to get the freight off the massive carrier. "Are you insane!" he shouted as a crane started moving them, Ronald simply laughed as he turned and used his leg to stabilize them. "No I've never been more sane," he said lightly as he turned toward them. He could hear people shouting at him in a variety of languages including English as Ronald began to weave through the crowd of unsuspecting sailors. William looked over his shoulder and stared at the dogs which were picking up speed as he slipped into the next gear. "Oi, you aren't allowed in here!" shouted one of the dock workers as he attempted to step in front of them. Ronald snorted as he swerved around him. William felt as though the world were a blur and all that he could see was the road before him, a shipping container traveled over their heads as Ronald turned toward a set of stairs. With little thought they were leaping over the stairs, toward the exit. "Finally!" shouted Ronald as he drew closer to the gate.

Only for a pair of very angry goons to shout for the gate to be closed. "It's going to be close!" cried Ronald as he sped up, they had to get through that gate, they would be killed if they didn't. "Hold on!" shouted Ronald as he kicked it up a gear, William didn't venture to look at the speedometer, he could only guess that they were going far above the speed limit. William clung to Ronald as he closed his eyes, he didn't have an interest in becoming one with the fence. He heard a shout as his eyes flickered open, they made it out and the guards were cursing as one of the black SUVs smashed into the fence. "That was far too close for comfort," stated Ronald as he continued down the road and dropped to a safer and far more manageable speed. William released the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding the entire time.

~~xXx~~

It was soft and warm, somewhere in his ears echoed a smooth voice reading a beautiful book. A pair of red eyes slowly opened, his body was heavy and he felt weak as he drew a breath, he was still there, the question was where. The voice stopped and looked at him, "You're awake," it breathed, it was a beautiful baritone, soft and gentle on the ears, yet familiar. Sebastian slowly looked over to see a pair of very concerned golden eyes looking at him, they were hidden behind a pair of black rectangular frames, he had purple bruises under his eyes and his hair was slightly oily. His usually pristine shirt was wrinkled, it looked as though he had slept in the chair before, an orange book rested on his lap with a black tassel between his fingers, he looked just about three quarters through the book. "Where?" asked Sebastian before licking his lips, he felt as though someone had stuffed it with cotton. Claude quickly handed Sebastian a glass of water, it was cool to the touch and Sebastian smiled a little. His fingers almost slipped off it, and yet Claude's grip prevented it from falling, "Here," he whispered softly as he held the glass to the man's lips. "Easy, you've been out for a while," he commented as he aided Sebastian.

Claude's voice was soft and gentle, nothing like the harsh one he had been accustomed to hearing, "The Hospital, Madame Red is the head of your case, she went home some time ago," he replied, it was only now that Sebastian realized it was now dark out. The sun was gone, and the time for his nightmares to reappear was upon him. He didn't want to sleep, he couldn't, he would only be plunged further into pain. "How long have you been there?" he asked slowly. Claude slipped the marker back in place and paused, "The past two days, you were in critical for a while," he stated, "you really scared me." Sebastian closed his eyes he was waiting to be lectured for his stupidity or something along those lines, yet it never came.

He slowly opened his eyes and hesitantly looked at the Head Chef, "Why haven't you- lectured me?" he asked hesitantly. Claude ran a hand through his hair for a moment, Sebastian had noted this was a nervous tick of Claude's, when ever he wasn't sure of what to do or say he would do this, it was as if he was tugging on his brain in hopes he would somehow be able to string a coherent sentence. Claude hummed and looked at him, "When you are ready you will tell me what happened," he commented. Sebastian nodded and looked at Claude, he didn't understand why the man was at his bed side, he had a restaurant to run and yet he was sitting at his side. "_Ciel_ is closed for a bit, many of his patrons would riot if they learned he was going to be open with you here," Claude states with ease. It amazed Sebastian how the Head Chef seemed to know what he was thinking.

"What are you reading?" he asked slowly. Claude hummed, his eyes narrowed before they fell on the book, it was as though he had forgotten it was there. "_Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Book 7_. The film will be out soon," he commented. Sebastian stared at the enormous book and at Claude, "It's a rather thick volume," he observed. Claude's lips quirked up and he shook his head, "It moves quickly actually," he said with ease. Sebastian hummed and closed his eyes, the image of a silver doe was in his memory, he had no idea where it was from, yet it was beautiful and looking back at him. "I had this dream, about a boy bounding after a silver glowing doe in the thick of the woods," said Sebastian slowly. He could remember the image of the boy jumping over branches after the gorgeous creature only to stop at a thick pond of ice and walk across it. He had no idea where the scene had come from, yet it was beautiful. "I didn't think you heard me," he commented.

Sebastian froze and looked at Claude in confusion, he didn't know much about the books, he had never had the opportunity to read them. "I was reading it out loud, I thought you might like the hear it, I've been reading to you for a while. There were several children in here earlier listening," he said softly as his fingers ran down the spine of the book affectionately. "That was your voice," said Sebastian absently, he could remember it ring in his ears, it was smooth, measured and melodic. All things which had made his dream far more enjoyable. Claude nodded, his hair fell in his eyes as he did, causing the chef to sweep it away with his hand absently. "Will you continue to read?" he asked slowly, he loved the sound of Claude's voice. The Head Chef smiled and hummed, "In a moment, but I wanted to say something, well answer a question," he stated. Sebastian sat up slowly, his eyebrows lifted a little as he looked at the Head Chef curiously. "You asked me once why I cook," he stated and Sebastian's eyes widened, "I didn't answer."

Now Sebastian was all ears, he had been wondering just why the chef was a chef and nothing else, he could easily make a parole officer he was frightening enough. "Sebastian, when we are in the kitchen, we are able to do magic. We can take all of these small pieces and turn them into something so much more beautiful, to create something delicious and interesting. I wanted to cook so I could watch people smile and enjoy, marvel at the wondrous world of flavor," he stated after a moment. Sebastian felt his heart pound, Claude may not have been a Patissier but he spoke like one. Even he recognized the magic in sugar and spice, that ancient spell on chocolate which held human imagination. How the smell of gingerbread meant the holidays, chocolate chip biscuits and their dough were of good times, and even lemon squares in the hot months of summer were welcome. How just the right biscuit with tea could warm the soul on a rainy afternoon and make books come to life. "Sebastian, do you think you can win?" he asked after a moment. There was a hint of concern in his voice as he asked, which made the young patissier stare at her.

"Why?" he asked softly as his eyes fell on Claude, he looked determined and suddenly the kiss flooded his mind. Claude's lips were soft and sweet, yet forceful and fiery, his kiss left a taste of spice on his lips and made his mind spin out of control. "I want you to know that I know you can, and no matter what I will stand at your side," he stated. Sebastian was confused he didn't understand where this was coming from, "I want to protect you, tell me what happened," he said smoothly. Sebastian was frozen, he didn't want to tell Claude that he was dirty and no one would touch him. "I-I wasn't feeling well," he replied. There was a moment in which Claude sighed and shook his head, "Sebastian, the press went haywire and are having a bloody field day with this," he stated. Sebastian drew a shaky breath and replied, "I, can we talk about this later?" he asked. Claude hummed and nodded before looking at the book on his lap. In moments he was opening it and picking up just where he had left off. His voice filled the room and caused Sebastian to close his eyes and fall into the world of J.K. Rowling, a world of wizards, witches and above all magic. A place which he wouldn't mind living in himself.

~~xXx~~

Alois woke slowly and found himself laying in the cell, on the door was open. Leaning in it was the tall and rather imposing form of the man he learned was the Chief Constable the night before. "Turns out you didn't do it," he said after a moment, his voice was deep and hummed pleasantly through the small space. Alois sighed and sat up stretching his arms over his head, "Yeah, well you're welcome," he commented as he pushed himself off the cot and walked toward the man, he was dressed in a slimming silver suit, he looked different compared to the night before, there was a magazine under his arm and Alois looked at it, Sebastian and Ash's photo was on the cover with a major headline. "You're following them too?" asked Alois curiously. The man tilted his head to the side and then looked at him, "Who?" he asked after a moment.

Alois pointed to the magazine and replied, "Sebastian Michaelis and Ash Landers." There was a pause as he pulled the magazine and hummed, "To be honest there are a number of people around here praying Sebastian wins," he stated. Alois could tell this was so much larger than himself, "Why?" he asked curiously. The man sighed and opened the article, "Listen," he instructed.

"Chef's come from all places, from large cities to small farms, you can find a chef. Ash Landers was raised in the middle of London and taught from an early age of pastry, by his father who is from a long line of Patissiers. After a messy divorce he was sent to New York, only to learn from some of the greatest masters, trained in the art and with a classic understanding it's difficult to believe that Landers would be defeated by Michaelis. Sebastian Michaelis is from an orphanage just outside of Paris, in a small province," he read.

Alois' mouth popped open, he thought Sebastian was from a family of chefs now he was being told the man was an orphan. "He was taken under the wing of a small village chef who made both bread and pastry, there he continued to learn in a small shop on the main road. After several years of training he left for Paris and managed to get into the prestigious school of Le Cordon Bleu on complete scholarship. Despite his upbringing, his desire to learn and still out striped even professors as the young chef did what no other could, make dreams reality," he continued as Alois stared, Sebastian was the ultimate fighter, he went from a poor orphanage to the prestige of Le Cordon Bleu and Ciel, he was now fighting so he can continue being the best of Europe. "Little is known of the extend of Michaelis' suffering, except that he is perhaps one of the greatest young chefs of the century," he finished.

Alois stared at him, everyone was expecting Sebastian to win, he had to. It was a though Sebastian was the voice of the people while Ash was the ancient ways. "Landers is dangerous, we know he is connected to Angela, however we are unsure of how," he stated. Alois slowly began piecing together just what the man was getting at, "You think that Sebastian, Anglea and Ash are all connected don't you?" he asked after a moment. It didn't take a genius to put together what he was alluding to. Phipps sighed and leaned in the doorway of the cell, "I don't know what to think, except that if we have a chance of cracking this, Sebastian holds the key somehow," he stated. There was a paused when he realized that he didn't even know the man's name, "Um I'm Alois Trancy, although I'm sure the guards told you. You are?" he asked after a moment. The man relaxed a little as he flicked out a card, holding it between his long fingers lazily. "Chief Constable Charles Phipps, most people call me Phipps," he stated. Alois took the card and noticed it had his office info on it, "I was told you practically took a permanent residence here," he stated. Alois groaned, of course he would know, everyone knew. "Yup I even have a reserved cell, although for the life of me I don't understand why so many people are scared of me," he mused as he crossed his arms and pursed his lips. Phipps looked at him skeptically, "Perhaps it's because I'm open about my sexuality," he mused, that would be more than enough to explain why even the largest men in the cells would stay away from him. "Gay?" asked Phipps. Alois nodded and looked over to see if the man was disgusted, "I have no right to judge," he replied with ease. There was a pregnant silence between them which made Alois squirm a bit, he hated it when those happened. It reminded him of the screaming matches which would occur between himself and his uncle. Suddenly the thought of Sebastian in pain entered his mind, no matter how bad it got, he didn't pass out on the floor. He shuddered for a moment as he remembered the scene before him, the look on Claude's face was enough to torment him. Even if he wasn't a large fan of Sebastian, he did care about Claude. After all Claude comforted him when his heart was shattered at Ciel's engagement party after realizing that they could never be together. They were worlds apart, he wasn't even the heir to his own fortune, it was left in the care of his uncle, and he wouldn't' see it unless something tragic occurred. His uncle didn't even bail him out anymore. There wasn't hope for him, but Sebastian, there was hope for him and Claude.

Alois sighed, once again Sebastian was being brought into this, "Phipps, what if I told you I knew how to get a hold of him?" he asked slowly. There was silence between the pair, "I do work for Ciel and I have access. Perhaps I can get him to talk to you," he proposed. Phipp's eyebrows shot up with shock and then he smiled, "I see, why are you helping me?"

Alois sighed and shrugged, "Easy, I don't like her and I have someone who would love a chance to hold Sebastian," he stated. Phipps hummed and smiled coyly, "Oh?" he asked. Alois simply nodded and slipped his hands into his pockets, "Well you have your motives and I have mine," he stated as he extended a hand, "Partners in crime?" he asked teasingly. Phipps rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Don't you mean heros? Besides I would look horrible in tights," he commented as he took Alois' hand. The blonde raked his eyes over the constable and bit his lip, now that Phipps was in the daylight he could see his beautifully chiseled body, broad chest and firm thighs, he couldn't wait to steal a glimpse of his ass. "Oh, I don't know about that," mumbled Alois and he flushed immediately after realizing he had said it. It didn't seem like the man noticed, however he wasn't about to risk it.


End file.
